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    FIRE AND SWORD
    IN
    THE SUDAN.




[Illustration: Lemerciergravure
Printed in Paris
Rudolph C. Slatin]




    FIRE AND SWORD
    IN
    THE SUDAN

    _A PERSONAL NARRATIVE OF FIGHTING AND
    SERVING THE DERVISHES._

    1879-1895.

    BY
    RUDOLF C. SLATIN PASHA, C.B.
    COLONEL IN THE EGYPTIAN ARMY (INTELLIGENCE DEPT.);
    FORMERLY GOVERNOR AND COMMANDANT OF THE TROOPS IN DARFUR.

    _TRANSLATED BY_
    MAJOR F. R. WINGATE, C.B., D.S.O., R.A.
    _Director of Military Intelligence, Egyptian Army_;
    AUTHOR OF "MAHDISM AND THE EGYPTIAN SUDAN," "TEN YEARS'
    CAPTIVITY IN THE MAHDI'S CAMP," ETC.

    ILLUSTRATED BY R. TALBOT KELLY, R.B.A.

    EDWARD ARNOLD.
    LONDON:                     NEW YORK:
    37, BEDFORD STREET.   70, FIFTH AVENUE.
    1896.




    _Copyright, 1896_,
    BY EDWARD ARNOLD.

    University Press:
    JOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A.




    TO
    Her Most Gracious Majesty
    THE QUEEN OF GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND
    AND
    EMPRESS OF INDIA

    WHO HAS EVER SHOWN DEEP SOLICITUDE FOR AND GRACIOUS
    SYMPATHY WITH THE EUROPEAN PRISONERS
    IN THE SUDAN

    _THIS RECORD OF HIS LIFE IN CAPTIVITY_

    IS BY PERMISSION HUMBLY DEDICATED BY HER MAJESTY'S
    MOST DEVOTED AND GRATEFUL

    RUDOLF C. SLATIN




PREFACE.


Prompted by the earnest entreaties of my friends rather than by any wish
of my own to relate my experiences, I have written these chapters.

The few months which have elapsed since my escape have been so much
occupied in resuming my official duties, compiling reports, and
satisfying the kindly interest displayed by a large number of people in
my strange fate, that any attempt at quiet and steady literary work has
been almost impossible.

During my captivity I was unable to make any notes or keep any diaries;
in writing, therefore, the following pages, I have been dependent
entirely on my memory, whilst the whirl of the busy European world and
the constant interruptions to which I have alluded, have given me little
time to collect my scattered thoughts.

When, therefore, after having been debarred for so many years from
intercourse with outside affairs, and entirely out of practice in
writing down my ideas, I find myself urged to lose no time in
publishing an account of my adventures, I must beg my readers to excuse
the many defects they may notice.

My experiences have no pretence to being of any literary or scientific
value, and the personal episodes I have described can lay claim to
little importance; I have merely attempted to give to those interested
in Sudan affairs a true and faithful account of my life whilst fighting
and serving the Mahdists.

    RUDOLF SLATIN.
    LONDON, _October, 1895_.




    INTRODUCTORY NOTE
    BY
    FATHER DON JOSEPH OHRWALDER,

    LATE PRIEST OF THE AUSTRIAN MISSION STATION AT DELEN, IN
    KORDOFAN, AND FOR TEN YEARS A CAPTIVE IN
    THE MAHDI'S CAMP.


The joy at meeting my dear friend and former comrade in captivity,
Slatin Pasha, in Cairo, after his miraculous escape, was indeed great;
and it is with extreme gratification that I comply with the wishes of
those friends who are interested in his experiences, to preface them
with a few remarks.

To have been a fellow-sufferer with him for many years, during which the
closest friendship existed between us,--a friendship which, owing to the
circumstances of our captivity, was necessarily of a surreptitious
nature, but which, interrupted as it was, mutually helped to alleviate
our sad lot,--is I think a sufficiently good reason for my friends to
urge that I should comply with their wishes.

Apart, however, from these purely personal motives, I need only refer to
the fact that the small scraps of information which from time to time
reached the outside world regarding Slatin Pasha, excited the deepest
sympathy for his sad fate; what wonder, then, that there should have
been a genuine outburst of rejoicing when he at length escaped from the
clutches of the tyrannical Khalifa, and emerged safely from the dark
Sudan?

It is most natural that all those interested in the weal and woe of
Africa should await with deep interest all that Slatin Pasha can tell
them of affairs in the former Egyptian Sudan, which only a few short
years ago was considered the starting point for the civilisation of the
Dark Continent, and which now, fallen, alas! under the despotic rule of
a barbarous tyrant, forms the chief impediment to the civilising
influences so vigorously at work in all other parts of Africa.

Slatin Pasha pleads with perfect justice that, deprived all these years
of intellectual intercourse, he cannot do justice to the subject;
nevertheless, I consider that it is his bounden duty to describe without
delay his strange experiences, and I do not doubt that--whatever
literary defects there may be in his work--the story of his life cannot
fail to be both of interest and of value in helping those concerned in
the future of this vast country to realise accurately its present
situation.

It should be remembered that Slatin Pasha held high posts in the Sudan,
he has travelled throughout the length and breadth of the country and--a
perfect master of the language--he has had opportunities which few
others have had to accurately describe affairs such as they were in the
last days of the Egyptian Administration; whilst his experiences during
his cruel captivity place him in a perfectly unique position as the
highest authority on the rise, progress, and wane of that great
religious movement which wrenched the country from its conquerors, and
dragged it back into an almost indescribable condition of religious and
moral decadence.

Thrown into contact with the principal leaders of the revolt,
unwillingly forced to appear and live as one of them, he has been in the
position of following in the closest manner every step taken by the
Mahdi and his successor, the Khalifa, in the administration of their
newly founded empire.

Sad fate, it is true, threw me also into the swirl of this great
movement; but I was merely a captive missionary, whose very existence
was almost forgotten by the rulers of the country, whilst Slatin Pasha
was in the vortex itself of this mighty whirlpool which swamped one by
one the Egyptian garrisons, and spread far and wide over the entire
Sudan.

If, therefore, there should be any discrepancies between the account
published some three years ago of my captivity and the present work, the
reader may safely accept Slatin Pasha's conclusions as more correct and
accurate than my own; the opinions I expressed of the Khalifa's motives
and intentions, and of the principal events which occurred, are rather
those of an outsider when compared to the intimate knowledge which
Slatin Pasha was enabled to acquire, by reason of his position in
continuous and close proximity to Abdullahi.

In concluding, therefore, these remarks, I will add an earnest hope that
this book will arouse a deep and wide-spread interest in the fate of the
unhappy Sudan, and will help those concerned to come to a right and just
decision as to the steps which should be taken to restore to
civilisation this once happy and prosperous country.

That the return of Slatin Pasha from, so to speak, a living grave should
bring about this restoration, is the fervent prayer of his old comrade
in captivity and devoted friend,

    DON JOSEPH OHRWALDER.
    SUAKIN, _June, 1895_.




TRANSLATOR'S NOTE.


In preparing the edition in English of Slatin Pasha's experiences in the
Sudan, I have followed the system adopted in Father Ohrwalder's "Ten
Years' Captivity in the Mahdi's Camp."

    F. R. WINGATE.
    LONDON, _October, 1895_.




CONTENTS.


    CHAPTER I.

    INTRODUCTORY.

                                                                    PAGE
    My First Journey to the Sudan--Return to Austria--My Second
    Journey--Corruption in the Sudan--Appointed Governor of
    Dara--Gordon in Darfur--He suppresses the Slave-trade--Zubeir
    Pasha and his Son Suleiman--The Gellabas, Jaalin, and
    Danagla--Retrospect of the First Causes of the Revolt in Bahr el
    Ghazal--Gessi's Campaigns--The Flight of Rabeh--Execution
    of Suleiman Zubeir--Effect of the Campaign on the Local Arabs      1


    CHAPTER II.

    RESIDENCE IN DARFUR, AND EARLY HISTORY OF
    THE PROVINCE.

    Arrival at Om Shanga--Matrimonial Difficulties--A Sudanese
    Falstaff--Description of El Fasher--The Furs and the Tago--A Tale
    of Love and Perfidy--Founding of the Tungur Dynasty--Conquest of
    Darfur by Zubeir Pasha--The Rizighat Tribe--Quarrel between
    Zubeir Pasha and the Governor-General--Both recalled to
    Cairo--Gordon Governor-General of the Sudan--I take up my Duties
    at Dara--Zogal Bey the Sub-Governor--I undertake a Campaign
    against Sultan Harun--Niurnia, Harun's Stronghold in Jebel
    Marra--I defeat the Sultan at Rahad en Nabak--Death of Harun--My
    Meeting with Dr. Felkin and the Rev. Wilson--My Boy
    Kapsun--Gordon's Letter from Abyssinia                            30


    CHAPTER III.

    THE GOVERNMENT OF DARFUR.

    Government Administration in Dara--My Difficulties with the
    Gellabas--Manners and Customs of the Arabs--Arrival at
    Shakka--Madibbo Bey Sheikh of the Rizighat--My Visit to
    Khartum--Arrival of Gessi in Khartum--I return West with Bishop
    Comboin and Father Ohrwalder--Am appointed Governor-General of
    Darfur--Hostilities between the Maharia and Bedeyat Arabs--I
    proceed to the Bedeyat Country--Strange Manners and Customs of
    the Bedeyat--Saleh Donkusa and Heglik Tree--The Ceremony of
    Taking the Oath of Fidelity--Return to El Fasher--Troubles at
    Shakka and Death of Emiliani--I leave for Dara                    90


    CHAPTER IV.

    THE KHALIFA'S PERSONAL ACCOUNT OF THE RISE
    OF THE MAHDI.

    Early Life of Mohammed Ahmed, the Mahdi--The Religious
    Tarikas--Mohammed Ahmed quarrels with his Religious Superior--He
    is refused Forgiveness, and joins a Rival Sheikh--He is joined
    by Abdullahi et Taaishi--The Mahdi secretly tells Abdullahi of
    his Divine Mission--The Failure to seize Mohammed Ahmed
    on Abba Island--The Mahdi's Hejra to Jebel Gedir--He nominates
    his Khalifas--The Defeat of Rashed Bey and Yusef Pasha
    Shellali--Effect of the Mahdi's Victories in Kordofan--The
    Mahdi's Intrigues with the Inhabitants of El Obeid--Futility of
    the Steps taken by the Government to cope with the Revolt        122


    CHAPTER V.

    SPREAD OF THE REVOLT IN SOUTHERN DARFUR.

    I arrive at Dara--Despatch of an Officer to Shakka--Character of
    Zogal Bey--Return to El Fasher--Causes of my Unpopularity
    with the Officers--Disturbances at Om Shanga--The Southern
    Tribes join the Revolt--I make Dara my Headquarters--The
    Power of a Woman's Tongue--Immorality of the Maalia Tribe--Sheikh
    Madibbo threatens Shakka--Cowardly Conduct of Mansur
    Helmi--I proceed to his Assistance--I commence my Campaign
    against the Southern Arab Tribes--The Night Attack on
    Madibbo's Camp--Mansur Helmi's Cowardly Retreat from Shakka--He
    deserts his own Men--Courageous Conduct of Ali Agha
    Juma--I decide to retake Dara at all Costs--Difficulty of
    enforcing my Orders                                              148


    CHAPTER VI.

    THE SIEGE AND FALL OF EL OBEID.

    Said Pasha, Governor-General of Kordofan, prepares to defend El
    Obeid--The Mahdi attacks the Town, but is repulsed with Great
    Loss--The Missionaries at Delen fall into the Mahdi's Hands--The
    Siege and Fall of Bara--The Horrors of the Siege of El
    Obeid--Said Pasha is forced to surrender--His Interview with the
    Mahdi--The Search for Treasure--The Mahdi's Miracles--Effect
    of the Fall of El Obeid on the General Situation                 171


    CHAPTER VII.

    VAIN EFFORTS TO STEM THE TIDE OF MAHDISM
    IN DARFUR.

    I advance on Shakka--The Battle of Om Waragat--Besieged in
    the Zariba--My Retreat on Dara through the Enemy's Country--The
    Illness and Death of Gottfried Rott--I despatch Secret Emissaries
    to Kordofan--My Difficulties with the El Fasher Garrison--The
    Revolt of the Mima Arabs--I learn of the Fall of El Obeid--The
    Death of Sheikh Afifi--My Campaign against the Mima and
    Khawabir Arabs--Discovery of a Plot amongst the Troops in Dara--My
    Officers and Men ascribe our Defeats to the Fact that I am
    a Christian--I decide to nominally adopt the Mohammedan Religion--I
    decide to send Zogal Bey to El Obeid--My Campaign against the
    Beni Helba--Beshari Bey seeks Death and finds it--Gravity of the
    Situation in Darfur                                              181


    CHAPTER VIII.

    HICKS PASHA'S EXPEDITION.

    The Execution of Said Pasha and the Brave Defender of El
    Obeid--Spread of Belief in the Mahdi's Divinity--Sheikh Sennusi is
    offered, but refuses, the Position of Mahdi's Khalifa--The Mahdi
    begins to organise his Government--The Spread of the Revolt in
    the Gezira--Criticisms on the Attitude of the Egyptian
    Government--The Despatch of Osman Digna to the Eastern
    Sudan--Hicks Pasha's Expedition enters Kordofan--Incidents on
    the March--Gallantry of Colonel Farquhar--The Diaries of Farquhar
    and Vizetelly--The Desertion of Gustav Klootz--The
    Mahdists harass the Expedition--The Final Attack on the
    Doomed Square--Incidents after the Battle--Extracts from
    O'Donovan's Diary--The Mahdi's Triumphal Entry into El Obeid     228


    CHAPTER IX.

    THE FALL OF DARFUR.

    Dara besieged by Madibbo--I make a Successful Counter-Attack--The
    Overthrow of Darho--I decide to remain at Dara--The Defeat of
    Kuku Agha--A Strange Expedient for concealing Letters--An
    Armistice proposed and accepted between Myself and the
    Besiegers--I resort to Stratagem to gain Time--Zogal writes from
    El Obeid, and describes the Annihilation of the Relief
    Expedition--I review the Situation and decide to
    surrender--Interview with Zogal at Shieria--The Mahdists enter
    Dara--Madibbo and his War-drums--Horrible Tortures inflicted on
    the Inhabitants who had concealed Money--The Siege and Fall of El
    Fasher--Letters from Egypt--The Dreadful Fate of Major
    Hamada--The Fall of Bahr el Ghazal--I leave for El Obeid         244


    CHAPTER X.

    THE SIEGE AND FALL OF KHARTUM.

    Gordon returns to the Sudan--The Siege of Khartum--I join the
    Mahdi at Rahad--Interviews and first Impressions of the
    Mahdi--The Oath of Allegiance--Description of the Khalifa--The
    Arrival of Hussein Pasha--Criticisms on Gordon's Mission--The
    Abandonment of the Sudan proclaimed--Incidents in Various Parts
    of the Sudan--The Arrival of Olivier Pain--His Mission, Illness,
    and Death--Arrival outside Khartum--I write to Gordon--I am
    arrested and thrown into Chains--Incidents during my
    Imprisonment--The Surrender of Omdurman--The Delay of the British
    Expedition--Khartum is attacked and taken--Gordon's Head is
    brought to me--Account of the last Days of Khartum--Massacres and
    Atrocities after the Fall--The Retreat of the British
    Expedition--The Rigours of my Imprisonment increased--My Comrade
    in Captivity, Frank Lupton--We are both released--I enter the
    Khalifa's Body-guard--Illness and Death of the Mahdi--Khalifa
    Abdullahi succeeds him--The Rules and Ordinances of the Mahdi    279


    CHAPTER XI.

    EARLY RULE OF KHALIFA ABDULLAHI.

    Success of Khaled's Stratagem to entrap Darho--Execution of
    Darho--Sieges of Sennar and Kassala--Fall of Ahmed Wad
    Suleiman--The Khalifa and the Black Troops--Execution of the
    Mudir of Kassala--My Journey to Abu Haraz--My Plans of Escape
    impracticable--The Khalifa presents me with a Wife--Mutiny of
    Black Soldiers at El Obeid--Death of the Emir Mahmud--Abu Anga
    seizes Khaled and throws him into Chains--Campaign in the Nuba
    Mountains--Lupton in Difficulties--He works in the Khartum
    Dockyard--Revolt of the Kababish--Difficulties begin with
    Abyssinia--Death of Klootz--Organisation of the Beit el
    Mal--The Khalifa's System of Jurisdiction                        376


    CHAPTER XII.

    EVENTS IN VARIOUS PARTS OF THE SUDAN.

    Karamalla's Expedition to the Bahr el Ghazal--Madibbo's Quarrel
    with Karamalla--Affairs in Darfur--Execution of Madibbo--Defeat
    and Death of Sheikh Saleh el Kabbashi--Capture of Charles
    Neufeld--My Interview with him--Arrival of Abu Anga's Army in
    Omdurman--Destruction of the Gehéna Tribe--The Conspiracy of
    "Saidna Isa"--Abu Anga's Campaign in Abyssinia--Sack of
    Gondar--Terrible Fate of the Captives--Osman Adam's Campaign in
    Darfur--Death of Sultan Yusef--Instances of the Khalifa's
    Tyranny--Building of the Mahdi's Tomb--Letters from Home--Death
    of my Mother--Death of Lupton--Nejumi ordered to invade Egypt    411


    CHAPTER XIII.

    THE ABYSSINIAN CAMPAIGN.

    Battle of Gallabat--Death of King John--The Revolt of Abu
    Gemmaiza--Defeats of the Mahdists--Death of Abu
    Gemmaiza--Preparations for the Invasion of Egypt--Execution of
    Sixty-seven Batahin Arabs--More Letters from Home--My Family send
    the Khalifa a Dressing-bag from Vienna--Immigration of the
    Taaisha Tribe--They settle in the Nile Valley--Nejumi advances
    into Egypt--Battle of Toski--Incidents during the Great
    Famine--The Fall of Ibrahim Adlan--His Execution--The Khalifa
    mistrusts me--I fall into Serious Danger--I become the Unwilling
    Recipient of the Khalifa's Favours                               439


    CHAPTER XIV.

    MAHDIST OCCUPATION OF THE SOUTHERN PROVINCES.

    The Mahdist Expedition to Equatoria--The Fate of the Remnant of
    Emin's Garrison--The Campaign against the Shilluks--Tokar
    re-captured--Death of Osman Wad Adam--Dissensions in Dongola--The
    Fall of Khaled                                                   468


    CHAPTER XV.

    DISSENSION AND DISCORD.

    The Revolt of the Ashraf--Flight of Father Ohrwalder and the Two
    Sisters--The Khalifa revenges himself on the Ashraf--The Seizure
    and Execution of the Mahdi's Uncles--Zeki Tummal's Return to
    Omdurman laden with Booty--Khalifa Sherif arrested--"Where there
    is no Fire there is no Smoke"--I change my Quarters--Sad News
    from Austria--The Khalifa falls ill--The Story of the
    Bird-messenger--The Fall of Zeki Tummal--The Battle of
    Agordat--The Capture of Kassala--The Fate of Kadi Ahmed--The
    Congo Free State in Equatoria and Bahr el Ghazal--I refuse to
    marry the Khalifa's Cousin                                       479


    CHAPTER XVI.

    MISCELLANEOUS REMARKS.

    The Person and Characteristics of Khalifa Abdullahi--The
    Fate of the Mahdist Chronicler--The Princesses of Darfur--The
    Khalifa's Family Life--His Harem--The Organisation of his
    Body-guard--Enforced Attendance at the Mosque--The Postal
    System--Military Parades--Elevation of the Western Arabs and
    Oppression of the River Tribes--The Military Situation and
    Strength--Guns and Ammunition--Revenue and Expenditure--Courage  514


    CHAPTER XVII.

    MISCELLANEOUS REMARKS (_continued_).

    Administration of Justice--The Kadi el Islam--Religion
    in the Sudan--The Khalifa's Sermons--Enforced Pilgrimage
    to the Mahdi's Tomb--Limits of the Mahdist Empire--Natural
    Produce--Caravan Roads--Ostrich Hunting--Trade and Commerce--The
    Slave-trade--The Slave Market--Industries--Immorality--Unpopularity
    of the Khalifa--His Ignorance and Cruelty--His Private
    Apartments--Principal Buildings in Omdurman--Description of the
    City--The Prison and its Horrors--Death of Zeki Tummal and Kadi
    Ahmed                                                            544


    CHAPTER XVIII.

    PLANS FOR ESCAPE.

    European Captives in Omdurman--Artin, the Watchmaker--Friends in
    Cairo--Efforts of my Family to help me--Difficulties of
    Communication--Babakr Abu Sebiba's failure--Efforts of Baron
    Heidler and the Egyptian Intelligence Department--Constant
    Failures--Osheikh Karrar--Abderrahman matures his Plans--Hopes
    and Fears--My Plan to gain Time--I quit my Hut never to return   576


    CHAPTER XIX.

    MY FLIGHT.

    I escape from the Town by Night--My Guides Zeki Belal and
    Mohammed--A Scare--130 Miles in 24 Hours--Our Camels break
    down--Hiding in the Gilif Mountains--Precautions against
    Surprise--Arrival of Fresh Camels--Our Journey to the Nile--The
    Crossing--Friendly Sheikhs--Narrow Escape from a Large Armed
    Party of Mahdists--Difficulties with my Guides--Hamed Garhosh the
    Amrabi--Out of Danger--Assuan at last--Congratulations and
    Welcome--Arrival in Cairo--Meeting with Old Friends              591


    CHAPTER XX.

    CONCLUSION.

    Africa, Past and Present--The Sudan, Past and Present--Rise,
    Progress, and Wane of Mahdism--How long will it last?--The
    Khalifa's Present Position--European Encroachment--"Whites" in
    the Bahr el Ghazal--Important Strategical Position of the
    Province--Time and Tide wait for no Man--I recover my Long-lost
    Sword--A Last Word                                               620


    INDEX                                                            631




LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.


                                                                    PAGE
    Slatin Pasha                                          _Frontispiece_
    Gessi Pasha's Troops advancing to the Attack on}
    "Dem Suleiman"                                 }       To face    18
    Zubeir Pasha                                             "        48
    A Rizighat Warrior                                       "        52
    Bedayat praying to the Sacred Tree                       "       114
    Surrender of the Bedayat to Slatin                       "       116
    Fight between the Rizighat and Egyptian Troops           "       188
    A Dervish Emir                                           "       238
    The Death of Hicks Pasha                                 "       240
    Bringing Gordon's Head to Slatin                         "       340
    An Abyssinian Scout                                      "       424
    A Slave Dhow on the Nile                                 "       430
    The Mahdi's Tomb, Omdurman                               "       432
    The Execution of the "Batahin"                           "       446
    Famine-stricken                                          "       454
    The Khalifa inciting his Troops to attack Kassala        "       504
    The Khalifa and Kadis in Council                         "       528
    In the Slave Market, Omdurman                            "       558
    Coming from Market, Omdurman                             "       570
    Slatin Pasha's flying from Omdurman                      "       592
    Slatin in hiding in the hills                            "       598
    A Camel Corps Scout                                      "       616
    Plan of Khartum and Omdurman.
    Map showing Extent of Mahdist Influence in 1895.




FIRE AND SWORD IN THE SUDAN.




CHAPTER I.

INTRODUCTORY.

    My First Journey to the Sudan--Return to Austria--My Second
    Journey--Corruption in the Sudan--Appointed Governor of
    Dara--Gordon in Darfur--He suppresses the Slave-Trade--Zubeir
    Pasha and his Son Suleiman--The Gellabas, Jaalin, and
    Danagla--Retrospect of the First Causes of the Revolt in Bahr el
    Ghazal--Gessi's Campaigns--The Flight of Rabeh--Execution of
    Suleiman Zubeir--Effect of the Campaign on the Local Arabs.


In July, 1878, when serving as lieutenant in H. I. H. the Crown Prince
Rudolph's regiment, the 19th Foot, on the Bosnian frontier, I received a
letter from General Gordon, inviting me to come to the Sudan and take
service with the Egyptian Government, under his direction.

I had previously, in 1874, undertaken a journey to the Sudan, travelling
by Assuan, Korosko, and Berber, and had reached Khartum in the month of
October of that year; thence I had visited the Nuba mountains, and had
remained a short time at Delen, where a station of the Austrian Roman
Catholic Mission had just been established. From here I explored the
Golfan Naïma and Kadero mountains, and would have made a longer stay in
these interesting districts, but the revolt of the Hawazma Arabs broke
out, and, being merely a traveller, I received a summons to return
forthwith to El Obeid, the chief town of Kordofan. The Arab revolt,
which had arisen over the collection of the excessively high taxes
imposed by the Government, was soon suppressed; but, under the
circumstances, I did not think it worth while returning to the Nuba
districts, and therefore decided to travel in Darfur.

At that time the Governor-General of the Sudan, Ismail Pasha Ayub, was
staying at El Fasher, the capital of Darfur; and on reaching Kaga and
Katul, I found, to my great disappointment, that an order had just been
issued prohibiting strangers from entering the country, as it had been
only recently subjugated, and was considered unsafe for travellers. I
returned therefore, without further delay, to Khartum; where I made the
acquaintance of Emin Pasha (then Dr. Emin), who had arrived a few days
previously from Egypt in company with a certain Karl von Grimm.

At that time General Gordon was Governor-General of the Equatorial
Provinces, and was residing at Lado; so to him we wrote asking for
instructions. Two months afterwards the reply came inviting us to visit
Lado; but in the meantime letters had reached me from my family in
Vienna urging me to return to Europe. I had been suffering considerably
from fever, and besides I was under the obligation of completing my
military service the following year. I therefore decided to comply with
the wishes of my family.

Dr. Emin, however, accepted Gordon's invitation, and he started soon
afterwards for the south, while I left for the north. Before parting, I
begged Emin to recommend me to General Gordon, which he did; and this
introduction eventually resulted in my receiving the letter to which I
have already referred, three years later.

Emin, it will be remembered, was, soon after his arrival at Lado,
granted the rank of Bey, and appointed Governor of Lado; and on Gordon's
departure he was nominated Governor-General of Equatoria, in which
position he remained until relieved by Mr. Stanley, in 1889.

I returned to Egypt by the Bayuda Desert, Dongola, and Wadi Haifa, and
reached Austria towards the close of 1875.

Gordon's letter, received in the midst of the Bosnian campaign,
delighted me; I longed to return to the Sudan in some official capacity;
but it was not till December, 1878, when the campaign was over and my
battalion had gone into quarters at Pressburg, that I received
permission, as an officer of the Reserve, to set out once more for
Africa.

My brother Henry was still in Herzegovina; so, remaining only eight days
in Vienna, to bid the rest of my family farewell, I left for Trieste on
21st December, 1878, little dreaming that nearly seventeen years would
elapse, and that I should experience such strange and terrible
adventures, before I should see my home again. I was then twenty-two
years of age.

On arrival in Cairo, I received a telegram from Giegler Pasha, from
Suez; he had just been appointed Inspector-General of Sudan Telegraphs,
and was on his way to Massawa, to inspect the line between that place
and Khartum; he invited me to travel with him as far as Suakin, and I
gladly availed myself of his kind offer. We parted at Suakin, he
proceeding by steamer to Massawa, while I made preparations to cross the
desert to Berber on camels. I received every assistance from Ala ed Din
Pasha, who was then Governor, and who subsequently, as Governor-General
of the Sudan, accompanied Hicks Pasha, and was killed with him when the
entire Egyptian force was annihilated at Shekan, in November, 1883.

On reaching Berber, I found a dahabia awaiting me there by General
Gordon's orders, and, embarking immediately, I arrived at Khartum on
15th January, 1879. Here I was shown every kindness and consideration;
Gordon placed at my disposal a house situated not far from the palace,
and a certain Ali Effendi was directed to attend to all my wants. In the
course of our daily meetings, General Gordon used often to talk of the
Austrian officers whom he had met at Tultcha, when on the Danube
Commission, and for whom he entertained a genuine friendship. I remember
his saying to me that he thought it was such a mistake to have changed
our smart white jackets for the blue uniform we now wear.

Early in February, Gordon appointed me Financial Inspector, and I was
instructed to travel about the country and examine into the complaints
of the Sudanese who objected to the payment of the taxes, which were not
considered unreasonably heavy. In compliance with these orders, I
proceeded _via_ Mesallamia to Sennar and Fazogl, whence I visited the
mountain districts of Kukeli, Regreg, and Kashankero, in the
neighbourhood of Beni Shangul; and then I submitted my report to General
Gordon.

In this report I pointed out that, in my opinion, the distribution of
taxes was unjust, and resulted in the bulk of taxation falling on the
poorer landed proprietors, whilst those who were better off had no
difficulty in bribing the tax-gatherers, for a comparatively small sum,
to secure exemption. Thus enormous quantities of land and property
entirely escaped taxation, whilst the poorer classes were mercilessly
ground down, in order to make up the heavy deficit which was the result
of this most nefarious system.

I further pointed out that much of the present discontent was due to the
oppressive and tyrannical methods of the tax-gatherers, who were for the
most part soldiers, Bashi-Bozuks, and Shaigias. These unscrupulous
officials thought only of how to enrich themselves as quickly as
possible at the expense of the unfortunate populations, over whom they
exercised a cruel and brutal authority.

In the course of my journey, I frequently observed that the property of
the Sudan officials--for the most part Shaigias and Turks--was almost
invariably exempted from taxation; and, on inquiry, I was always told
that this privilege had been procured, owing to the special services
they had rendered the Government. When I remarked that they received pay
for their services, they appeared greatly offended and annoyed. However,
on my arresting some of the principal delinquents, they admitted that
their taxes were justly due. In Mesallamia, which is a large town
situated between the Blue and White Niles, and a considerable trade
centre, I found an immense collection of young women, the property of
the wealthiest and most respected merchants, who had procured them and
sold them for immoral purposes, at high prices. This was evidently a
most lucrative trade; but how were the establishments of these merchants
to be taxed, and what action was I to take? I confess that ideas and
experience on this point quite failed me; and feeling my utter inability
under these circumstances to effect any reform, and having at the same
time little or no financial experience, I felt it was useless to
continue, and therefore sent in my resignation. Meanwhile, Gordon had
gone off to Darfur, with the object of inquiring into the circumstances
connected with the campaign against Suleiman, the son of Zubeir Pasha;
but before leaving he had promoted Giegler to the rank of Pasha,
intrusting him with the position of acting Governor-General during his
absence. I therefore took the occasion to send him my report and
resignation by the same post, and soon afterwards received a telegram
from Gordon, approving my resignation of the position of Financial
Inspector.

It was an immense relief to me to be free from this hateful task; I had
no qualms of conscience, for I felt my utter inability to cope with the
situation, such as I found it,--radically wrong, and corrupt through and
through.

A few days later, I received a telegram from Gordon, appointing me Mudir
of Dara, comprising the southwestern districts of Darfur, and ordering
me to start at once, as I was required to conduct military operations
against Sultan Harun, the son of a former Sultan, and who was bent on
endeavouring to wrest back his country from its Egyptian conquerors.
Gordon further instructed me to meet him, on his return journey,
somewhere between El Obeid and Tura el Hadra, on the White Nile. Having
despatched my camels to this spot, where Gordon's steamer was waiting
for him, I embarked without further delay, and on landing at Tura el
Hadra, I proceeded west, and after two hours' ride reached the
telegraph station of Abu Garad, where I learnt that Gordon was only four
or five hours distant, and was on his way to the Nile. I therefore
started off again, and in a few hours found him halted under a large
tree. He was evidently very tired and exhausted after his long ride, and
was suffering from sores on his legs. I had fortunately brought some
brandy with me from the stock on board his own steamer, and he was soon
sufficiently revived to continue his journey. He asked me to come back
with him to Tura el Hadra, to discuss the Darfur situation with him, and
to give me the necessary instructions. He also introduced me to two
members of his suite, Hassan Pasha Helmi el Juwaizer, formerly
Governor-General of Kordofan and Darfur, and to Yusef Pasha esh
Shellali, who was the last to join Gessi in his campaign against
Suleiman Zubeir and the slave hunters. We were soon in the saddle; but
Gordon shot far ahead of us, and we found it impossible to keep up with
his rapid pace. We soon reached Tura el Hadra, where the baggage camels,
which had previously been sent on ahead, had already arrived. As the
steamers were anchored in mid-stream, we were rowed out in a boat. I
found myself sitting in the stern, next Yusef Pasha esh Shellali, and,
as a drinking-cup was near him and I was thirsty, I begged him to dip it
into the river, and give me a drink. Gordon, noticing this, turned to
me, smiling, and said, in French, "Are you not aware that Yusef Pasha,
in spite of his black face, is very much your senior in rank? You are
only the Mudir of Dara, and you should not have asked him to give you a
drink." I at once apologised in Arabic to Yusef Pasha, adding that I had
asked him for the water in a moment of forgetfulness; to which he
replied that he was only too pleased to oblige me or any one else to
whom he could be of service.

On reaching the steamers, Gordon and I went on board the "Ismaïlia,"
while Yusef Pasha and Hassan Pasha went on the "Bordein." Gordon
explained to me in the fullest detail the state of Darfur, saying that
he hoped most sincerely the campaign against Sultan Harun would be
brought to a successful close, for the country for years past had been
the scene of continuous fighting and bloodshed, and was sorely in need
of rest. He also told me that he believed Gessi's campaign against
Suleiman Zubeir would soon be over; before long, he must be finally
defeated or killed, for he had lost most of his Bazinger troops
(rifle-bearing Blacks), and it was impossible for him to sustain the
continual losses which Gessi had inflicted on him. It was past ten
o'clock when he bade me "Good-bye." He had previously ordered the fires
to be lighted, as he was starting that night for Khartum, and, as I
stepped over the side, he said, in French, "Good-bye, my dear Slatin,
and God bless you; I am sure you will do your best under any
circumstances. Perhaps I am going back to England, and if so, I hope we
may meet there." These were the last words I ever heard him utter; but
who could have imagined the fate that was in store for both of us? I
thanked him heartily for his great kindness and help, and on reaching
the river-bank, I stopped there for an hour, waiting for the steamer to
start. Then I heard the shrill whistle, and the anchor being weighed,
and in a few minutes Gordon was out of sight--gone for ever!

On the following morning, mounted on the pony which Gordon had given me,
and which carried me continuously for upwards of four years, I started
off for Abu Garad, and, travelling thence by Abu Shoka and Khussi,
reached El Obeid, where I found Dr. Zurbuchen, the Sanitary Inspector.
He was about to start for Darfur, and we agreed to keep each other
company as far as Dara. We hired baggage camels through the assistance
of Ali Bey Sherif, the Governor of Kordofan; and just as we were about
to set out, he handed me a telegram which had been sent from Foga,
situated on the eastern frontier of Darfur; it was from Gessi,
announcing that Suleiman Zubeir had fallen at Gara on 15th July, 1879:
thus was Gordon's prediction verified that Suleiman must soon submit or
fall.

It may not be out of place here to give a brief account of this
campaign; its principal features are probably well known, but it is
possible I may be able to throw fresh light on some details which,
though almost twenty years have now elapsed, still possess an interest,
inasmuch as it was this campaign which was the means of bringing to the
front a man whose strange exploits in the far west of Africa are now
exercising the various European Powers who are pressing in from the west
coast, towards the Lake Chad regions. I refer to Rabeh, or, as I find he
is now called, Rabeh Zubeir.

After the conquest of Darfur, Zubeir, who had by this time been
appointed Pasha, was instructed by the then Governor of the Sudan,
Ismail Pasha, to reside in the Dara and Shakka districts. At this
particular period relations between Ismail and Zubeir were strained; the
latter had complained of the unnecessarily heavy taxation, and had
begged the Khedive's permission to be allowed to come to Cairo to
personally assure His Highness of his loyalty and devotion. Permission
had been granted, and he had left for Cairo. Soon afterwards Ismail
Pasha Ayub also left Darfur, and Hassan Pasha el Juwaizer succeeded him
as Governor; while Suleiman, the son of Zubeir, was nominated as his
father's representative, and was instructed to proceed to Shakka.
Gordon, it will be remembered, had also succeeded Ismail Ayub as
Governor-General, and had paid a visit of inspection to Darfur with the
object of quieting the country, and introducing, by his presence and
supervision, a more stable form of government.

On 7th June, 1878, Gordon arrived at Foga, and from there sent
instructions to Suleiman Zubeir to meet him at Dara. Previous to this,
information had reached him that Suleiman was not satisfied with his
position, and was much disturbed by the news that his father was
detained in Cairo by order of the Government.

It is said that Zubeir had sent letters to his son urging on him and his
followers that, under any circumstances, they should be independent of
the Egyptian Government; and as it was well known that Suleiman's object
was to maintain his father's authority in the country, his discontent
was a factor which it was not possible to ignore.

From Foga, Gordon proceeded by Om Shanga to El Fasher, where he
inspected the district and gave instructions for a fort to be built; and
after a few days' stay there he came on to Dara, where Suleiman, with
upwards of four thousand well-armed Bazingers, had already arrived, and
was encamped in the open plain lying to the south of the fort.
Conflicting opinions prevailed in Suleiman's camp in regard to the order
that they were to move to Shakka. Most of his men had taken part in the
conquest of Darfur, and consequently imagined that they had a sort of
prescriptive right to the country, and they did not at all fancy handing
over these fertile districts to the Turkish and Egyptian officials;
moreover, Suleiman and his own immediate household were incensed against
what they considered the unjust detention of Zubeir Pasha in Cairo, and
it was evident they were doing all in their power to secure his return.
It must also be borne in mind that most of Zubeir's chiefs were of his
own tribe--the Jaalin--and had formerly been slave-hunters. By a
combination of bravery and good luck they had succeeded in taking
possession of immense tracts of land in the Bahr el Ghazal province, and
here they had exercised an almost independent and arbitrary authority;
nor was this a matter of surprise when the uncivilised condition of both
the country and its inhabitants is taken into consideration. They had
acquired their position by plundering and violence, and their authority
was maintained by the same methods. When, therefore, they learnt that
Gordon was coming, they discussed amongst themselves what line of action
they should take. Some of the more turbulent members were for at once
attacking Dara, which would have been a matter of no difficulty for
them; others advised seizing Gordon and his escort, and then exchanging
him for Zubeir: should he resist and be killed in consequence, then so
much the better. A few, however, counselled submission and compliance
with the orders of the Government.

In the midst of all this discussion and difference of opinion, Gordon,
travelling by Keriut and Shieria, had halted at a spot about four hours'
march from Dara, and, having instructed his escort to follow him as
usual, he and his secretaries, Tohami and Busati Bey, started in advance
on camels. Hearing of his approach, Suleiman had given instructions to
his troops to deploy in three lines between the camp and the fort; and
while this operation was being carried out, Gordon, coming from the rear
of the troops, passed rapidly through the lines, riding at a smart trot,
and, saluting the troops right and left, reached the fort.

The suddenness of Gordon's arrival left the leaders no time to make
their plans. They therefore ordered the general salute; but even before
the thunder of the guns was heard, Gordon had already sent orders to
Suleiman and his chiefs to appear instantly before him. The first to
comply with this peremptory summons was Nur Angara; he was quickly
followed by Said Hussein and Suleiman. The latter was not slow to
perceive that the favourable moment had passed, and, therefore, at the
head of a number of his leaders, presented himself before the ubiquitous
Governor-General. After the usual compliments, Gordon ordered cigarettes
and coffee to be handed round, and he then inquired after their affairs,
and promised that he would do all in his power to satisfy every one; he
then dismissed them, and told them to return to their men. But he
motioned Suleiman to remain; and when alone, told him that he had heard
there was some idea amongst his men of opposing the Government: he
therefore urged him not to listen to evil counsellors. He gave him
clearly to understand that it would be infinitely more to his advantage
to comply with the orders of Government than to attempt offensive
measures, which must eventually end in his ruin; and after some further
conversation, in which Gordon to some extent excused the enormity of
Suleiman's offence on account of his extreme youth, he forgave him, and
allowed him to return to his troops, with the injunction that he should
strictly obey all orders in the future.

Meanwhile the escort which had been following behind from El Fasher
arrived at the fort, and Gordon, after a short rest, sent for one of
Suleiman's leaders, Said Hussein, with whom he discussed the situation.
The latter declared that his chief, in spite of pardon, was even then
ready to fight in order to secure his father's return and to get back
his own power and authority. Gordon now appointed Said Hussein Governor
of Shakka, and ordered him to start the following day with the troops he
required; but he asked him to say nothing about his nomination for a few
hours.

No sooner had he left Gordon than Nur Angara was summoned; and on being
upbraided for the want of loyalty that evidently existed amongst the
men, he replied that Suleiman was surrounded by bad advisers, who were
driving him to his ruin, and that whenever he ventured to express a
contrary opinion, Suleiman took not the smallest heed of what he might
say. Gordon, convinced of his loyalty, appointed him Governor of Sirga
and Arebu, in western Darfur, and instructed him to start the following
day with Said Hussein and to take any men he liked with him.

When it came to Suleiman's ears that his two chiefs had been made
governors by Gordon, he reproached them bitterly, and called to their
minds how they owed all they possessed to his father's generosity; to
this they replied that had it not been for their faithful services to
his father, he would never have become so celebrated and successful.
With these mutual recriminations the two new Governors quitted Suleiman,
and started at daybreak the following morning for their destination.

When they had gone, Gordon again sent for Suleiman and his chiefs. He at
first refused to come; but on the earnest entreaties of the others, who
urged that further resistance to Gordon's orders was out of the
question, he yielded with a bad grace, and once more found himself face
to face with him. On this occasion Gordon treated him with the greatest
consideration, pointing out that he had come expressly to advise
Suleiman against the folly of thinking that he could attempt to thwart
the Government by trusting in the bravery and loyalty of his Bazingers;
he assured him that loyal service under Government would bring him into
a position which could not fail to satisfy his ambitions, and, that,
further he had no reason to be concerned about his father's detention in
Cairo, that he was treated with the greatest respect and honour there,
and that he had only to exercise a little patience. Finally Gordon
instructed him to proceed to Shakka with his men, and await his arrival
there.

The following morning Suleiman received orders that on his arrival at
Shakka the new Governor had been instructed to make all provision for
the troops, and that therefore he should start without delay,--an order
which he at once carried into effect. Thus had Gordon, by his amazing
rapidity and quick grasp of the situation, arrived in two days at the
settlement of a question which literally bristled with dangers and
difficulties. Had Suleiman offered resistance at a time when Darfur was
in a disturbed state, Gordon's position and the maintenance of Egyptian
authority in these districts would have been precarious in the extreme.

Gordon then returned to El Fasher and Kebkebia; already the disturbances
which had been so rife in the country showed signs of abatement, and by
his personal influence he succeeded in still further quieting the
districts and establishing a settled form of government. Leaving El
Fasher in September, 1877, he again visited Dara and Shakka, where he
found that Suleiman had quite accepted the situation and was prepared to
act loyally; he therefore appointed him Governor of the Bahr el Ghazal
province, which had been conquered by his father; he further gave him
the rank of Bey, with which Suleiman appeared much gratified, and
expressed great satisfaction at Gordon's confidence in him. A number of
slaves, with their masters, who, when Suleiman was in disgrace at Dara,
had deserted him, and had gone over to Said Hussein, now returned to
him; and thus, with a considerable acquisition to his strength, he left
for Dem Zubeir, the chief town of his new province, which had been
founded by his father.

Arrived here, he issued circulars to all parts of the country to the
effect that he had been appointed Governor; and at the same time he sent
a summons to a certain Idris Bey Ebtar to present himself forthwith
before him. This Idris Bey Ebtar had, on Zubeir Pasha's departure for
Cairo, been appointed by him as his agent in the Bahr el Ghazal. He was
a native of Dongola, and in this fact lies, I think, the secret of the
subsequent deplorable events.

The Bahr el Ghazal province is inhabited by an immense variety of negro
tribes, who were more or less independent of each other until the
Danagla and Jaalin Arabs, advancing from the Nile valley in their
slave-hunting expeditions, gradually settled in the country and took
possession of it. The Jaalin trace their descent back to Abbas, the
uncle of the Prophet. They are very proud of it, and look down with the
greatest contempt and scorn on the Danagla, whom they regard as
descended from the slave Dangal. According to tradition, this man,
although a slave, rose to be the ruler of Nubia, though he paid tribute
to Bahnesa, the Coptic Bishop of the entire district lying between the
present Sarras and Debba. This Dangal founded a town after his own name,
Dangala (Dongola), and gradually the inhabitants of the district were
known as Danagla. They are, for the most part, of Arab descent, but,
having mixed freely with the natives of the country, have somewhat lost
caste. Of course they too insist on their Arab descent, but the Jaalin
continually refer to their Dangal origin, and treat them with contempt
and derision. The relations between these two tribes must be fully
recognised in order to understand what follows.

The friends of Idris Ebtar, who were for the most part Danagla, strongly
urged him to disobey Suleiman's summons; and, in consequence, a
situation arose which was entirely after the slave-hunter's own heart.
To play off one chief against another, and thereby serve his own
interest and derive personal benefit, is the Arab's delight; and in
this instance it was not long before Idris Ebtar's defiance of
Suleiman's authority developed into terror of being taken prisoner, and
he fled the country to Khartum. Arrived here, he reported that Suleiman
was now acting as if the country were entirely his own; that instead of
performing his duties as a governor, he had usurped the position of his
father, who was rather a king than a governor; that he had given the
best positions to his own Jaalin followers, to the exclusion of all the
other tribes, more especially the Danagla, who were being tyrannized
over and oppressed in every possible way,--indeed, according to Idris
Ebtar's story, Suleiman was about to declare himself an independent
ruler; and in support of his statement he produced quantities of
petitions, purporting to have been received from merchants,
slave-dealers, and others in the Bahr el Ghazal, all urging the
Government to dismiss Suleiman at once, and replace him by another
governor. Assisted by his numerous relatives, Idris Ebtar made such a
good case of it to the Khartum authorities that they offered him the
post of governor in succession to Suleiman, on condition that he would
supply a regular annual revenue of ivory and india-rubber, and that he
would also provide annually a contingent of Bazinger recruits, trained
to the use of fire-arms, for incorporation in the Egyptian army.

In order to give full effect to his new appointment, he was given an
escort of two hundred regular troops under a certain Awad es Sid
Effendi, to whom instructions were given to comply absolutely with his
orders.

Idris, leaving Khartum, proceeded by steamer up the White Nile, and
thence by the Bahr el Ghazal to Meshra er Rek, eventually reaching
Ganda, whence he wrote to Suleiman informing him that he had been
dismissed. The receipt of this document was naturally the signal for a
general commotion. Suleiman instantly summoned his relatives and friends
to his side, and informed them in the most resolute manner that he would
utterly refuse to comply with such an unfair order, pointing out with a
certain amount of justice that since his arrival in Bahr el Ghazal he
had had practically no dealings with the Government, and that it was
very unjust of them to act on mere suspicion, without giving him a
chance of defending himself. He urged, moreover, that Government was not
dealing fairly in discharging him from a position which was his by
right. But here Suleiman was to a certain extent incorrect in claiming
territory which, though conquered by his father, was now the actual
property of the Government. The meeting over, he wrote a letter in the
above sense to Idris Ebtar, protesting in the strongest terms against
his interference, accusing him of base ingratitude, and of acting in
defiance of every law of honour and justice in having recourse to such
means to gratify his personal ambitions. He further reminded him of the
assistance and support ever accorded to him by his absent father,
Zubeir, who, on being obliged to leave Darfur, had appointed him his
agent; and he finally upbraided him for having gone to Khartum as he did
and intrigued to be made governor, instead of coming and seeing him as
he had ordered, after Gordon had appointed him (Suleiman) governor; and
he wound up his letter by an emphatic refusal to pay the smallest
attention to Idris Bey's summons.

In answer to this letter, Idris sent Suleiman an ultimatum, calling on
him to either submit instantly, or take the consequences of being
proceeded against as a rebel; to which Suleiman replied that he was
quite prepared to let the sword decide between them.

It was now clear that war must inevitably result, and the merchants
began to be alarmed for their lives and property. The Jaalin, of course,
wished Suleiman to remain their chief, whilst the other tribes,
considerably in the minority, sided with Idris, who, on assuring himself
that a resort to arms was inevitable, despatched his brother, Osman
Ebtar, with two hundred regulars and a number of Bazingers under Awad es
Sid Effendi, to garrison Ganda, whilst he himself, with a small party of
Bazingers, proceeded to collect some followers, with a view to making a
sudden onslaught on Suleiman. The latter, however, incited by the
intense hatred of his tribe for their Danagla enemies, did not hesitate
to risk arbitration by the sword. Secretly collecting a number of his
followers at Dem Zubeir, he made a sudden attack on the zariba at Ganda;
and although Osman Ebtar and his men made a gallant stand, the zariba
was soon reduced to ashes, the houses and huts, in accordance with
Suleiman's orders, being completely destroyed, and the dead and wounded
thrown into the flames. After this bloody encounter, all attempts at
arriving at a peaceful settlement were out of the question; it was now
war to the knife between Suleiman and Idris, and the latter, learning of
the disaster at Ganda, lost no time in returning to Khartum and
reporting that Suleiman had revolted in the Bahr el Ghazal, and had
declared his independence, which was, in fact, the case. Indeed, no time
was lost by Suleiman in informing the principal Bahr el Ghazal
merchants, such as Genawi Abu Amuri, Zubeir Wad el Fahl, and others,
that he had resolved to take up arms against the Government, and he
begged them to co-operate with him. It was thus quite clear that
Suleiman did not doubt the Government would not give up a province like
Bahr el Ghazal without making a final effort to hold it. The Danagla
also, knowing that they had no mercy to expect from the Jaalin, set to
work to strengthen their own positions; but the principal merchants,
such as Ali Amuri and Zubeir Wad el Fahl, who were very anxious to do
nothing which would jeopardise their relations with the Government,
stood aloof.

Meanwhile the news came that Romolo Gessi had reached Khartum, and had
been appointed commander of the expedition against Suleiman and the
slave-hunters. Accompanied by Yusef Pasha esh Shellali and forty
officers and men, he proceeded in the first instance to Fashoda, where
he secured the services of two companies of troops and further
reinforcements of regulars and irregulars from Lado and Makaraka. At
Gaba Shamba he found a considerable store of Remington rifles and
ammunition and a number of Bazingers, which raised his force to upwards
of two thousand five hundred rifles.

It was now (July, 1878) the rainy season, and operations against
Suleiman were for the moment impossible. Gessi, therefore, proceeded to
Rumbek, and from thence sent a summons to Genawi and Wad el Fahl to join
him. With this order they at once complied, bringing with them a further
reinforcement of some two thousand five hundred men, while Gessi
received continual additions to his strength from the smaller merchants
and others, so that when the wet season was over he found himself at the
head of upwards of seven thousand men, besides two guns and a number of
rockets, with which he prepared to march to Ganda. Meanwhile, doubts
being entertained of Said Hussein's loyalty, Gordon despatched Mustafa
Bey Abu Kheiran to replace him; and on the arrival of the latter at
Shakka, Said Hussein was sent to Khartum under escort. His arrest was
the signal for all Zubeir Pasha's old chiefs, such as Osman Wad Tayalla,
Musa Wad el Haj, and others, to join Suleiman, who had in the meantime
been concentrating his troops, and had been joined by thousands of minor
slave-hunters, mostly Rizighat and Habbania Arabs, who were ever ready
to side with the winners, in the hope of plunder. Thus Suleiman's force
was numerically far superior to that of Gessi Pasha, who by this time
had reached Ganda.

Arrived here, he at once proceeded to construct a zariba and entrench
himself. Yusef Pasha and the others who had no knowledge of
fortification, laughed at Gessi's precautions; but it was not long
before they were fully convinced of their efficacy. Suleiman advanced to
attack Ganda, on 25th December, 1878; and after a terrific onslaught, in
which both sides lost heavily, he was forced to retire. In spite of this
heavy defeat, Suleiman, in the course of the next three months, made
four other unsuccessful attacks on Ganda; and at length, in March, 1879,
Gessi, having procured ammunition and reinforcements, prepared to take
the offensive against Suleiman, who had by this time suffered heavily,
and had lost many of his best leaders.

On 1st May an action was fought, which was, comparatively speaking,
insignificant in regard to losses, but resulted in Suleiman being forced
to beat a precipitate retreat from Dem Zubeir; the large stock of slaves
and booty falling into the hands of Gessi's Danagla followers, who,
apparently without his knowledge, shared the plunder amongst themselves.

Suleiman's power was thoroughly broken, and he had now to decide between
unconditional surrender to Government, or flight into the interior of
Africa. The Danagla had become possessors of all his property, including
his enormous harem of some eight hundred women, besides those of his
various chiefs, whose respective households could not have numbered less
than one hundred women each,--indeed, every Bazinger, who was
practically a slave, was also the possessor of one or two wives; and now
all this immense amount of human loot had fallen into the hands of his
enemies. Moreover, his scattered forces, which were now roaming about
the country in search of work, made no secret of the quantities of gold
and silver treasure which Suleiman had amassed, and which were now, no
doubt, in the hands of Gessi's men. When it is remembered that
Suleiman's treasury included the masses of gold and silver jewellery
captured by his father at Dara, at Manawashi,--where Sultan Ibrahim had
ruled, and had fallen on the capture of Darfur,--at El Fasher, at
Kebkebia, etc., it can be readily understood what riches must have
fallen into the hands of the Government levies, and--perhaps unknown to
their commander, who was ignorant of the language--had been divided up
amongst them.

Gessi now quartered the bulk of his troops in the entrenched camp
vacated by Suleiman, and with a comparatively small force proceeded to
follow him up in pursuit. In order to conceal his whereabouts, Suleiman
had scattered his men throughout the western districts; but Gessi came
across one of his armed bands, under Rabeh, and dispersed it without
much difficulty. Rabeh, however, escaped, and just at this period Gessi
received orders from Gordon to meet him in Darfur; he therefore
collected all his troops in Dem Suleiman, where they rested after their
fatiguing campaign, whilst he himself, accompanied by some of his
officers, amongst whom was Yusef Pasha esh Shellali, proceeded to Et
Toweisha, where the caravan routes from Om Shanga, El Obeid, and Dara
join, and here he met Gordon.

[Illustration: Gessi Pasha's Troops advancing to the attack on "Dem
Suleiman."]

In this his second visit to Darfur, Gordon had ascertained that the
Sudanese merchants of El Obeid had been selling arms and powder to the
rebel Suleiman, with whom they naturally sympathised for their own
selfish purposes; this contraband of war had been secretly despatched to
Bahr el Ghazal through the intermediary of the Gellabas (petty traders),
who obtained enormous prices from Suleiman: for instance, six to eight
slaves would be exchanged for a double-barrelled gun, and one or two
slaves was the price of a box of caps. The officials at El Obeid made
some attempt to check this trade, but the difficulties were great. The
districts between Kordofan and Bahr el Ghazal were inhabited principally
by nomad Arab tribes such as the Rizighat, Hawazma, Homr, and Messeiria;
it was, moreover, an easy matter for small parties of Gellabas to
traverse, without fear of detection, the almost uninhabited forests,
with which the country abounds; and even if an Egyptian official came
across them, he was, as a rule, quite amenable to a small bribe.

Gordon was fully cognisant of all this, and therefore gave the order
that trade of every description was to be stopped between El Obeid and
Bahr el Ghazal. The merchants were, in consequence, ordered to quit all
districts lying to the south of the El Obeid, Et Toweisha, and Dara
caravan road, and to confine their trade entirely to the northern and
western countries, whilst active operations were going on in Bahr el
Ghazal. But, in spite of the strictness with which these orders were
enforced, the chances of gain were so enormous and so enticing that the
merchants grew almost insensible to the risk of discovery; and, in fact,
the Government had not at hand the means of checking the trade in an
adequate manner,--indeed, in spite of the Government restrictions, the
trade rather increased than decreased. Gordon, therefore, had to resort
to very drastic measures. He ordered the Sheikhs of the Arab tribes to
seize all Gellabas in their districts, and forcibly drive them to Dara,
Toweisha, Om Shanga, and El Obeid, and at the same time held them
responsible for any Gellabas found in their countries, after a certain
date. This order was welcomed by the greedy Arabs, who seized the
occasion to pillage, not only the wandering traders, but even those who
had been settled amongst them for years, and who had nothing to do with
this illicit commerce; they gathered the wheat and the tares together,
and cast out both indiscriminately, making considerable profit over the
transaction. Gordon's order was now the signal for a wholesale campaign
against the traders, who not only lost their goods, but almost every
stitch of clothing they possessed, and were driven like wild animals in
hundreds, almost naked, towards Dara, Toweisha, and Om Shanga. It was a
terrible punishment for their unlawful communication with the enemies of
the Government.

Many of these traders had been residing amongst the Arabs for years.
They had got wives, children, concubines, and considerable quantities of
property, which in turn fell into the hands of the Arabs. The fates,
indeed, wreaked all their fury on these wretched slave-hunters, and the
retribution--merited as it undoubtedly was, on the principle of an eye
for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth--was painful enough to witness, and
had consequences which were more far-reaching; for it must be remembered
that the majority of these petty traders were Jaalin from the Nile
valley, and between them and their Arab oppressors there now arose the
most implacable hatred, which has continued up to the present time, and
which shows signs of increase rather than of diminution.

In point of humanity, this attack on the Gellabas may be open to
question; but on closer investigation it will be apparent to all that
it was not possible to deal with an anomalous situation, such as then
existed, by political or philanthropic methods,--drastic and violent
measures could alone be effective. The Arab himself says, "Nar el ghaba
yelzamha el harika" (Against a prairie-fire, fire must be used); and the
proverb was peculiarly applicable in this case.

Now, these traders being for the most part Jaalin, Shaigias and Danagla
had, of course, relations and friends in the Nile valley; and, indeed,
many of the latter were their intermediaries in the commercial and slave
transactions which took place. Gordon's orders, therefore, were scarcely
less unpopular amongst these Nile-dwellers, who could not understand why
such severe measures were necessary, merely to prevent Gessi from being
defeated in Bahr el Ghazal.

But to return to Gessi's movements. Having met Gordon at Toweisha, and
explained the situation to him, he was instructed to proceed to Dara,
while Gordon returned to Khartum, and with him Yusef Pasha Shellali, who
during the entire campaign had served Gessi most loyally, but who had
been told, by some of the numerous intriguers, that his chief was
against him; he therefore begged Gordon to allow him to return with him
to Khartum,--a request which was at once granted, while his services
were further recognised by his promotion to the rank of Pasha.

On his arrival at Dara, Gessi received information that Suleiman had
quitted Bahr el Ghazal, and, having collected his forces, was somewhere
in the southwest of Darfur. It was thought that he intended to unite
with Sultan ben Seif ed Din, a direct descendant of the old Darfur
kings, who was said to have collected a force with the object of
opposing the Government and driving out the foreigners. It is impossible
to say whether this was really Suleiman's intention; but there is no
doubt that Sultan Harun had never concluded an alliance with Suleiman,
who, being the son of the conqueror of Darfur, by whom the dynasty had
been destroyed, was hated by the Darfur people even more than were the
Egyptians; the latter, in comparison with Zubeir's lawless gangs of
Bazingers, had a slightly higher reputation, but both seemed to consider
the Darfurians their legitimate prey, and both were guilty of acts of
cruelty and oppression.

At this time the principal Government official at Dara was Zogal Bey
(Mohammed Bey Khaled); and Gessi, having left almost all his troops in
Bahr el Ghazal, now begged him to place at his disposal two companies of
regular troops, under the command of Saghkolaghasi Mansur Effendi Helmi;
with these, and a certain Ismail Wad el Barnu,--an Egyptian born in
Darfur, and well known for his bravery, and knowledge of the
country,--Gessi set off for Kalaka, the headquarters of the Habbania
Arabs. Here he was joined by Arifi Wad Ahmed, head Sheikh of the
Habbania, and by Madibbo Bey, chief of the Rizighat, who was loyal to
Government, and could place several hundred horsemen in the field.

Suleiman's star was now declining. Abandoned by most of his own
tribesmen, who had secretly made off through the forests to the Nile
valley; deserted by the greater part of his trusted Bazingers, whom
hunger, fatigue, and aimless wandering in pathless regions had
hopelessly scattered; his footsteps dogged by Gessi, who was kept
informed of his every movement,--he was, indeed, in sorry plight when
Ismail Wad Barnu, despatched by Gessi with a summons to surrender,
appeared before him at Gharra.

Ismail was well known to Suleiman, and had been instructed by Gessi to
inform him that, should he submit, his life and the lives of his chiefs
would be spared, and his women and children should not be touched, on
condition that he handed over to him his Bazingers, with their arms, and
made a solemn vow of loyalty to the Egyptian Government. Ismail pointed
out to Suleiman that all hope of successful resistance was now at an
end, and, as a native of the country, he gave it as his private opinion
that Sultan Harun would never be induced to enter into alliance with
him.

Suleiman now convened a meeting of his principal men to discuss the
terms of peace offered by Gessi. Most of them were heartily tired of
this constant fighting, in which they had been almost invariably
defeated, but there were some who doubted the sincerity of the
conditions proposed; Ismail, however, asserted in the strongest terms
that he would guarantee the sincerity of Gessi, who himself longed to
put an end to this useless bloodshed, and further stated that he had
been authorised by him to take a solemn oath in his name that the
conditions of surrender would be faithfully observed.

Suleiman and all his chiefs, with the exception of Rabeh, agreed to
accept; but the latter pointed out, with a prescience, which subsequent
events justified, that Suleiman had been warned, before he took up arms,
of the danger he was incurring, and that once in the hands of his
captors he could not hope for mercy. As regards himself, Rabeh declared
that it would be pain and grief to him to separate from men who had been
his companions in joy and sorrow all these years, but he gave them
distinctly to understand that he would never place himself in the power
of Gessi, whose success had been due to the Danagla, and who, though an
European, was really in their hands. He begged his companions to
remember the bitter animosity which existed between the Jaalin and
Danagla, and recalled the merciless manner in which the former had
treated the latter when Osman Ebtar had been defeated at Ganda. He
therefore had two proposals to make, viz., to collect their entire force
and march west into the Banda countries, which had hitherto been
untouched by foreign intruders, and which could offer no resistance to
the thousands of well-armed Bazingers they still had at their command.
He then went on to say, that once the Black tribes had been subjugated,
they could enter into relations with the kingdoms of Wadai, Baghirmi,
and Bornu, and that it was most unlikely that Gessi and his men, who
were tired of fighting, would follow them into distant and unknown
regions, over which the Government had no control, and from which it was
not likely they could reap any benefit.

Should this proposal not meet with their approbation, then he would
suggest that as they wished now to lead quiet lives with their
fellow-tribesmen in the Nile valley, they should send a special
deputation either to His Highness the Khedive or to Gordon Pasha,
begging for pardon and peace; but that they should never do so through
Gessi, whose only object was to secure their arms and Bazingers, and
who, at the capture of Dem Suleiman, had unhesitatingly taken everything
they possessed. If, therefore, they wished to save their lives and avoid
the intrigues of the Danagla, all they had to do was to leave the
Bazingers with their arms behind, and themselves proceed by Kalaka and
Shakka and through the uninhabited forests of Dar Hamar to Foga, the
western telegraph station on the Darfur frontier, whence they could wire
their submission and ask for pardon, which would undoubtedly be granted.
Or they might, added Rabeh, proceed from Shakka through Dar Homr, and,
skirting the northern Janghé country, reach El Obeid, where they could
make their submission through the intermediary of the Governor and their
relative, Elias Pasha Wad Um Bereir. He concluded his speech by saying
that should none of these proposals meet with approval, then he was
prepared, with the greatest reluctance, to quit his lifelong friends,
and, taking those who wished to join him, he would march west and take
his chance; but, he added most emphatically, he would never place
himself in the hands of Gessi and his Danagla.

These proposals were made by Rabeh to Suleiman and the others in the
presence of Ismail Wad Barnu, who again urged that they should submit to
Gessi, arguing that as the latter had been originally entrusted with the
campaign, it would naturally be a point of honour with him to see to
Suleiman's safety and to write favourably to Government in regard to
him; but, on the other hand, added Ismail, should Suleiman attempt to
obtain pardon without Gessi's intermediary, then the latter would
naturally be very angry, and would probably be the means of injuring him
in the eyes of the Government.

Musa Wad el Haj, one of Suleiman's best leaders, and who also had some
influence with Gessi, now addressed Rabeh as follows: "You have made
certain proposals in the hearing of Ismail Wad Barnu, who is Gessi's
messenger. Should we concur with your proposals, what do you consider we
should do with him?" To this question Rabeh answered, "Ismail is our
friend, and was trusted by Zubeir; far be it from me to wish him any
harm. Should we decide on flight, then, in self-preservation, we must
take him with us a certain distance and when we are out of reach of
pursuit, let him go." A long discussion now ensued, which resulted in a
division of opinions: Suleiman, Hassan Wad Degeil (Zubeir's uncle), Musa
Wad el Haj, Ibrahim Wad Hussein (the brother of Saleh Wad Hussein, the
former Governor of Shakka, who had been arrested and sent to Khartum),
Suleiman Wad Mohammed, Ahmed Wad Idris, Abdel Kader Wad el Imam, and
Babakr Wad Mansur, all of the Gemiab section of the Jaalin tribe; also
Arbab Mohammed Wad Diab of the Saadab section, agreed to accept Gessi's
conditions and submit. But Rabeh, Abu el Kasim (of the Magazib section),
Musa Wad el Jaali, Idris Wad es Sultan, and Mohammed Wad Fadlalla, of
the Gemiab section, and Abdel Bayin, a former slave of Zubeir Pasha,
decided not to submit under any circumstances, but to march west.
Ismail, being of course most anxious to inform Gessi of Suleiman's
submission, urged him to break up the meeting and to give him a written
document that the conditions were acceptable. Suleiman complied, and
with eight of his chiefs signed the compact and handed it to Ismail, who
at once returned to Gessi at Kalaka with presents of several male and
female slaves.

No sooner had he gone than Rabeh again came to Suleiman, and in the most
earnest terms begged him to reconsider the matter; but Suleiman was
obdurate, and Rabeh, therefore, retired heart-broken, beat his war-drums
to collect his Bazingers and followers, sorrowfully bade his old
companions farewell, and marched off in a southwesterly direction, to
the sound of the ombeÿa, or elephant's tusk (the Sudan war-horn, which
can be heard at an immense distance).

Several of Suleiman's men, seeing that Rabeh was determined not to
submit, joined him, preferring the uncertainty of a life of adventure in
the pathless forests to the risk of giving themselves up to the hated
Danagla. But the five chiefs who had been his main supporters took the
occasion to desert him at his first camping-station, intending to
conceal themselves by the help of the Arab chiefs whom they knew, and
eventually to make their way back to the Nile when all danger was over.

On receipt of Suleiman's letter of submission, Gessi set out with all
speed for Gharra, accompanied by Ismail, who feared that Rabeh's
counsels might after all prevail and that they had no time to lose; they
took with them a considerable number of men, and were reinforced by
contingents supplied by the Rizighat and Habbania chiefs. Arrived near
Gharra, Gessi sent on Ismail to tell Suleiman that he had received the
signed conditions, with which he was satisfied, and that he had come to
personally accept his submission. In a short time Ismail returned,
reporting Rabeh's flight with a considerable number of Bazingers and
arms, and that Suleiman was quite prepared to surrender. Gessi therefore
advanced to Gharra with his troops and met Suleiman, whose men had piled
their arms. He verbally gave them the pardon for which they asked, and
then ordered the Bazingers to be distributed between Sheikh Arifi and
Madibbo Bey, while instructions were given to put the chiefs under a
guard until the Government officials appointed to take charge of them
should have been selected.

These orders were executed with great promptitude, and in two hours, out
of the entire camp, only Suleiman and the chiefs, with their wives and
families, remained, and over these a small guard was placed.

Now, as Rabeh had truly foretold, the intrigues of the Danagla against
Suleiman began. They told Gessi that Suleiman's servants had reported
that he already regretted having submitted, and that had he known that
he was to be received in such a way, he would rather have died fighting.
Gessi, although a man of an open and honourable disposition, was
somewhat susceptible to such insinuations; he trusted his own men, and
as they had risked their lives for him, he did not doubt their words.
But he neither knew nor realised that his men were bent on Suleiman's
destruction. The loot which they had taken in Dem Suleiman and in many
other engagements was enormous, besides male and female slaves, gold and
silver jewellery, and an immense amount of cash, all of which they had
distributed amongst themselves, unknown to Gessi. What they now feared
was that Suleiman, being admitted to Gessi's favour, would inform him of
what had occurred, and that he would enter a claim against the
Government. Moreover, it will be remembered how Idris Ebtar had by his
intrigues given the authorities the impression that the Bahr el Ghazal
revolt was entirely due to the Zubeir faction, while they showed
themselves in the light of faithful adherents and martyrs to the
Government cause. They dreaded lest Suleiman might be sent to Khartum,
whence he would probably obtain permission to visit his father in Cairo,
and they knew that Zubeir possessed sufficient influence to institute
claims against them for the seizure of his property, and would moreover
do his utmost to show that Suleiman was not responsible for the revolt.

The Danagla, therefore, now resorted to the following base expedient:
they informed Gessi that Suleiman had sent messengers to recall Rabeh,
that he had given him instructions to make an attack on Gessi, who had
only an insignificant force, and to whom they had surrendered under the
impression that his force was much larger, but that Rabeh was
sufficiently strong to easily overcome him, and thus completely turn the
tables.

Mansur Effendi Helmi also came forward and corroborated these tales,
adding that he was convinced Suleiman was just as hostile as before, and
that on the smallest chance being given him he would not hesitate to
revolt once more against the Government.

Gessi was now fully convinced that their statements were true, and in
consequence of their urgent declamations against Suleiman he went back
on the promise he had made that their lives should be safe. In the
course of the day he had Suleiman and the nine chiefs brought into his
tent, and reproached them very severely for their traitorous conduct. To
proud and uncivilised men these reproaches were unbearable, and they
replied in an equally abrupt tone. Gessi, stung to anger, quitted the
tent and ordered the Danagla, who were lurking about, to shoot them. In
a moment the tent was pulled down over their heads, they were secured,
their hands were tied behind their backs, and they were driven to the
place of execution. With the most bitter imprecations on their lips
against the treacherous Danagla, they fell, shot through the back by the
rifles of a firing party of Mansur Helmi's regulars, on the 15th July,
1879. Thus did fate overtake Suleiman and his friends. Death had come
upon them treacherously, it is true; but they had abused the authority
with which they had been vested, by their cruelty and ambition they had
wrecked the provinces of Bahr el Ghazal and Darfur, and had reduced the
inhabitants to an unparalleled state of misery and wretchedness.

Gessi lost no time in sending a telegram to the station at Foga
reporting Suleiman's death and the conclusion of the campaign to Gordon.
This news, as already related, reached me through Ali Bey Sherif the day
I left El Obeid for Darfur.

Gessi now called on the Shaigias to hand over the Bazingers in their
charge; but they reported that owing to an insufficient guard they had
escaped; and as the story seemed credible, Gessi collected the remainder
of his men, with the intention of proceeding to Bahr el Ghazal, where he
wished to establish a settled form of government, in place of the
constant warfare which had decimated this fertile province. Just before
leaving, he received information that the five chiefs who had left
Rabeh, viz., Abdel Kasim, Musa Jaali, Idris Wad es Sultan, Mohammed
Fadlalla, and Abdel Bayin; were in hiding amongst the Arabs; he
therefore left orders for the Shaigia to search for them, and when
found, to bring them for punishment before the Governor of El Fasher.
Zogal Bey, the Governor of Shakka, was also ordered to do his utmost to
catch these men, with the result that they were discovered without much
difficulty, and brought, with shebas round their necks, to El Fasher,
where Messedaglia Bey, without further ado, had them instantly shot.
Thus, with the exception of Rabeh, the entire Zubeir gang was destroyed,
and the power of the slave-hunters crippled.

The campaign had resulted in a considerable loss to Government of arms
and ammunition, and in a corresponding acquisition of strength to the
great southern Arab tribes, such as the Baggara, Taisha, Habbania, and
Rizighat, who both before and after the fall of Suleiman had captured
numbers of Bazingers and immense quantities of loot; the subsequent
effects of which were not long in showing themselves.




CHAPTER II.

RESIDENCE IN DARFUR, AND EARLY HISTORY OF THE PROVINCE.

    Arrival at Om Shanga--Matrimonial Difficulties--A Sudanese
    Falstaff--Description of El Fasher--The Furs and the Tago--A
    Tale of Love and Perfidy--Founding of the Tungur
    Dynasty--Conquest of Darfur by Zubeir Pasha--The Rizighat
    Tribe--Quarrel between Zubeir Pasha and the
    Governor-General--Both recalled to Cairo--Gordon
    Governor-General of the Sudan--I take up my Duties at
    Dara--Zogal Bey the Sub-Governor--I undertake a Campaign against
    Sultan Harun--Niurnia, Harun's Stronghold in Jebel Mara--I
    defeat the Sultan at Rahad en Nabak--Death of Harun--My Meeting
    with Dr. Felkin and the Rev. Wilson--My Boy Kapsun--Gordon's
    Letter from Abyssinia.


I left El Obeid early in July, 1879, in company with Dr. Zurbuchen, the
Sanitary Inspector-General, whom I had met in Cairo; our route took us
through Foga, the telegraph terminus, and here I found a telegram from
Gordon, telling me that he was proceeding on a Mission to King John of
Abyssinia.

We reached Om Shanga to find it crowded with Gellabas who had been
turned out of the southern districts, and were really in a pitiable
condition. Curiously enough, the news had spread far and wide that I was
Gordon's nephew (I suppose on account of my blue eyes and shaven chin),
and in consequence I was looked upon with some apprehension by these
people, who considered him as the cause of all the troubles which they
were now justly suffering. I was overwhelmed with petitions for support;
but I told them that as Om Shanga was not in my district, I could do
nothing for them,--and even if I could have spared them something from
my private purse, I had neither the desire nor inclination to do so.

In one case, however, I confess to having broken the rule; but before
relating this little episode, I should explain that my action must not
be judged from the standpoint of purely Christian morality. In this case
I admit to being guilty of even greater moral laxity in regard to the
Moslem marriage law, than is enjoined in the Sharia, or religious law;
but when my readers have finished the story, I think they will perhaps
share the feelings which prompted me to act as I did. Several of the
merchants who had travelled from the Nile called upon me and begged me
to interest myself in the case of an unfortunate youth, a native of
Khartum and only nineteen years of age. They related that before
quitting Khartum he had been betrothed to his beautiful but very poor
young cousin; the parents had consented to the marriage, but he was to
first take a journey and try to make some money. On his arrival at Om
Shanga a very rich old woman took a violent fancy to him. Whether the
youth had been overcome by her riches, my informants did not say, but
the old woman would have her way and had married him; and now, finding
himself comparatively wealthy, he had no particular desire to give her
up. The sad news had reached Khartum, the poor girl was distracted, and
now I was asked to solve the difficulty. What was I to do? I called up
the youth, who was unusually good-looking, and, taking him aside, I
spoke to him with as serious a countenance as I could preserve; I
pointed out how very wrong it was of him, a foreigner, to have married a
strange old woman while his poor _fiancée_ was crying her eyes out at
home, and that even if his cousin's dowry was small, still, in honour
bound, he should keep his promise. He hesitated for a long time, but at
length decided to go before the Kadi (judge of the religious law) and
get a divorce. I had previously seen the Kadi, and had instructed him
that should the youth seek a divorce, it was his duty to break the news
as gently as he could to the old wife, as I was most anxious the
separation should be carried out with as little commotion as possible;
and, taking a guarantee from the young man's relatives that they would
be responsible that he should go direct to Khartum, I warned the
Government official of Om Shanga that the youth was to be banished at
two days' notice! I also told him that he might say what he liked about
me to the old woman, and that I was quite ready to bear the blame,
provided he could get her to give him some money for the journey. Little
did I imagine what a storm I had brought on my devoted head! It was
about four o'clock in the afternoon, and I was lying on my angareb
(native couch) in the little brick hut, when I heard the voice of an
angry woman demanding to see me instantly. I guessed at once who it was,
and, bracing my nerves for the fray, told the orderly to let her in. Dr.
Zurbuchen, who was in the room with me, and whose knowledge of Arabic
was very limited, was most desirous to leave me; but I was by no means
anxious to be left alone with an angry woman, and at length persuaded
him to stay. No sooner was the divorced wife admitted than she rushed up
angrily to Dr. Zurbuchen, whom she mistook for me, and shrieked in a
tone of frantic excitement, "I shall never agree to a divorce. He is my
husband, and I am his wife; he married me in accordance with the
religious law, and I refuse to let him divorce me." Dr. Zurbuchen,
thoroughly startled, muttered in broken Arabic that he had nothing to do
with the case, and meekly pointed to me as the hard-hearted Governor. I
could not help being amused at the extraordinary figure before me. She
was a great strong woman, with evidently a will of her own; and so
furious was she that she had quite disregarded all the rules which
usually apply when Eastern ladies address the opposite sex. Her long
white muslin veil had got twisted round and round her dress, exposing
her particoloured silk headdress, which had fallen on her shoulders; she
had a yellowish complexion, and her face was covered with wrinkles,
while her cheeks were marked by the three tribal slits, about half an
inch apart; in her nose she wore a piece of red coral, massive gold
earrings in her ears, and her greasy hair was twisted into innumerable
little ringlets, which were growing gray with advancing age. I thought I
had never seen a more appalling looking old creature; but my
contemplations were cut short by her screeching voice, which was now
directed on me with renewed fury, and I was confronted with the same
question she had addressed to the terrified doctor. Giving her time to
recover her breath, I replied, "I quite understand what you say, but you
must submit to the inevitable: your husband must leave; and as you are a
native, I cannot permit you to go with him. You appear undesirous of
having a divorce; but you must remember that, in accordance with the
Moslem law, it is for the man to give the woman her divorce papers, and
not the woman the man."

"Had you not interfered," she shrieked, "he would never have left me.
Cursed be the day you came here!"

"I beg of you, do not say that," I answered; "you are a woman of means,
and I should not think you would have any difficulty in securing another
and perhaps older husband."

"I want no other," she literally screamed.

"Silence!" I said somewhat sharply. "The relatives of your former
husband wish him to leave you; they complained that it was only your
money which bound him to you; and now, whatever you may say, he is to
leave to-morrow. Besides, do you not think it is outrageous that an old
woman like you should have married a young lad who might have been your
grandson?" These last words drove her into a state of perfect frenzy;
and, losing all control over herself, she threw up her hands, tore off
her veil, and what else might have happened I know not, but my kavass
(orderly), hearing the noise, rushed in and quietly but forcibly removed
her from the room, cautioning her that her conduct was disgraceful, and
that she had made a laughing-stock of herself. The following day her
husband left, and I do not doubt her grief was considerable; but some
years later I had the satisfaction of meeting the youth, married to his
early _fiancée_, and already the father of a family; he thanked me
profusely for having got him out of the clutches of the old woman and
brought him to his present happy state. It is needless to relate that I
slept soundly that night, convinced that I had done a good piece of
work, and that it had cost me nothing.

Two days later we left Om Shanga, and halted for the night at Jebel el
Hella, where we were met by Hassan Bey Om Kadok, the Sheikh of the
northern Berti tribes, who had shown great loyalty and had been granted
by Gordon the rank of Bey. He was a middle-aged man, very stout, with
great broad shoulders and a round, smiling face; he might well have been
called the Sudan "Falstaff." Some years later, when the tables were
turned, and masters became servants, he and I found ourselves together
as orderlies in the Khalifa's body-guard, where his cheerful disposition
and genial nature brightened an existence which at times was almost
unbearable. His brother Ismail was exactly the opposite,--tall, thin,
and serious; and the two brothers never by any chance agreed, except on
one point, and that was their inveterate love of marissa (Sudan beer):
to have each a large jar (made of pottery, and known in Darfur as the
_Dulang asslia_ or _Um bilbil_) of this marissa, and to vie with one
another in emptying it first, was to them the greatest pleasure in life.

They invited us to sup with them, and for our evening meal an entire
sheep, baked on charcoal, was served up, besides a quantity of roast
fowls and a dish of asida (the latter is somewhat like the Italian
polenta, and is eaten with all the courses); there were also several
jars of marissa. We thoroughly enjoyed the food, leaving the marissa to
our hosts, and substituting for it some of our own red wine. Hassan and
Ismail, however, freely regaled themselves with wine as well as marissa;
the effect on the former being to make him extremely talkative, while
the latter became more and more silent. Hassan related many little
incidents about Gordon, for whom he had the greatest admiration and
regard. He was much grieved to hear he was going to Abyssinia.
"Perhaps," said he, sadly, "he will go back to his own country, and
never return to the Sudan again." Curiously enough, he was partially
correct. He then left the room and returned almost at once, carrying a
magnificent saddle and sword. "Look," said he, "these are the last
presents General Gordon gave me when I accompanied him to El Fasher; he
was most kind and generous." Then Ismail showed us a rich gold
embroidered robe which Gordon had presented to him. "Pride," said
Hassan, "was unknown to Gordon. One day, on our way to El Fasher, one of
the attendants shot a bustard; and when we halted at noon, the cook at
once boiled some water and threw the bird into the pot, so as to take
off its feathers. Gordon, seeing this, went and sat himself down by the
cook and began helping him to pull out the feathers. I at once rushed up
and begged him to allow me to do this for him, but he answered, 'Why
should I be ashamed of doing work? I am quite able to wait on myself,
and certainly do not require a Bey to do my kitchen work for me.'"

Hassan continued chatting till a late hour. He related his experiences
during Zubeir's conquest of Darfur, then of the subsequent revolts and
the present situation, frequently reverting to Gordon, whom he held in
great honour. "Once, travelling with Gordon," he remarked, "I fell ill,
and Gordon came to see me in my tent. In the course of our conversation
I told him that I was addicted to alcoholic drinks, and that I put down
my present indisposition to being obliged to do without them for the
last few days. This was really my indirect way of asking Gordon to give
me something; but I was mightily disappointed, and, instead, received a
very severe rebuke. 'You a Moslem,' said he, 'and forbidden by your
religion to drink wines and spirits! I am indeed surprised. You should
give up this habit altogether; every one should follow the precepts of
his religion.' I replied, 'Having been accustomed to them all my life,
if I now gave them up my health must suffer; but I will try and be more
moderate in future.' Gordon seemed satisfied, got up, shook hands with
me, and bade me good-bye. The following morning, before leaving, he
sent me three bottles of brandy, with injunctions that I should use them
in moderation."

Meanwhile Hassan's lanky brother sat in complete silence, leaning on his
elbows and solemnly filling up and swallowing glass after glass of
marissa, with an almost clockwork regularity. When we had stopped
talking, he got up in a very deliberate manner, solemnly wiped his mouth
with his hand, and said in a melancholy tone, "Yes, brandy is very good;
it is not an alcoholic drink, it is medicine. Gordon is a great and
benevolent man; we shall never see him again."

It was very late before our hosts left us, and, having ordered our
baggage camels to start before daybreak, we had a few hours' sleep. The
next morning at sunrise our riding camels were ready, and Dr. Zurbuchen
and I looked about for our hosts to wish them good-bye. At length we saw
Ismail hurrying towards us; his head was evidently suffering from the
effects of the previous night. "Masters," he shouted, "we have always
been told that in your country justice exists; I am sure that there
guests never wrong their hosts. Last night, when your baggage camels
started, your people carried off my best rug, which I had laid out for
you to lie down on yesterday." I made inquiries, and had no doubt that
one of my men must have made off with the precious rug; so, ordering one
of my kavasses to mount his camel and overtake the caravan, I patiently
awaited his return. In due time he came back with the stolen rug, and,
tied on behind him, one of my eight Black soldiers who belonged to our
escort. On being interrogated, the man said he had taken it by mistake;
but as I had no doubt of his guilt I had him flogged and sent back a
prisoner to the nearest military post at Om Shanga. I was much upset by
the occurrence, for I knew that these people were apt to conclude that
as the master is, so is the servant; and had I not acted with severity
on this occasion I should probably have had a frequent recurrence of
such thefts.

With profuse apologies to our hosts, we set off for El Fasher, and,
passing through Brush, Abiat, and Ergud, reached there after five days'
march.

For the last century El Fasher had been chosen as the capital of Darfur.
It is built on two sandy hills running north and south, and separated by
a valley some four hundred yards across, known as the Wadi Tendelti. The
fort is situated on the western hill, and consists of a square mud-brick
enclosure about three feet thick built on the slope, and surrounded with
a ditch fifteen feet deep; at the corners were four small towers, manned
with guns which fired from embrasures.

This enclosure embraces the Government buildings, Governor's house,
officers' quarters, and men's barracks; but the quarters of the
irregular cavalry are outside. The wells are down in the valley, about
one hundred and fifty yards distant from the walls of the fort.

At this time Messedaglia Bey, an Italian, was Governor of El Fasher; he
gave Dr. Zurbuchen and myself a cordial welcome, and allotted us
quarters in the Government buildings. We had both suffered somewhat from
fever during our wet march, and therefore decided to rest here for a few
days.

Darfur was formerly one of the line of ancient Central African kingdoms,
stretching across the continent from west to east. Up to the early part
of the seventeenth century the kings of Darfur had dominion over the
country as far east as the Atbara; but the warlike Fungs, who at that
time were one of the most powerful tribes of the Sudan, gradually drove
the Darfurians back, and established their own authority up to the banks
of the White Nile. In 1770 they wrested the province of Kordofan from
the Darfur kings, but five years later it was retaken by the latter, and
remained under their control until conquered in 1822 by Mohammed Bey
Dafterdar, the brother-in-law of Ismail Pasha, who, it will be
remembered, was burnt alive at Shendi. History has already described the
heroic bravery of the Darfur troops led by Musallem, the Viceroy of
Kordofan, who, with almost all his men, utterly ignorant of the effect
of fire-arms, dashed up to the muzzles of the Turks' guns, and were
annihilated almost to a man. Kordofan thus remained under Egyptian rule
until, in 1883, it fell under the sway of the Mahdi.

Meanwhile, after the loss of Kordofan the Darfurians retired further to
the west, and the kings now governed only a circumscribed area, of which
Jebel Marra was the centre. The roads through these almost inaccessible
mountains are few and very difficult, and in consequence the place is
one of great strength. Many of the peaks are between six and seven
thousand feet high, and separated from each other by deep and fertile
valleys gradually descending to the plains below. During the rains the
rivulets in these valleys become rushing torrents, and, flowing south
into the main valleys of Wadi Asum and Wadi Ibra, convert them into two
gigantic rivers, the latter emptying into the Bahr el Arab, which
eventually joins the Bahr el Ghazal, and forms the main western
tributary of the White Nile. The streams flowing north from Jebel Marra
have a less rapid descent, and are quickly absorbed in the sandy soil of
the desert.

In the valleys of Jebel Marra, barley, Turkish wheat, and dukhn are
planted; but in the plains of Darfur only the latter can be grown, and
it is therefore the ordinary food of the inhabitants. In the southern
district it comes to maturity from ninety to a hundred days after being
planted, but in some of the northern districts it ripens even twenty
days earlier.

The original tribes of the country were the Furs and the Tago, the
latter ruling for centuries over the entire district from their
inaccessible strongholds in Jebel Marra. Tradition relates that about
the fourteenth century, the Tungur Arabs, emigrating south from Tunis,
scattered throughout Bornu and Wadai, and eventually reached Darfur, the
first arrivals being two brothers, Ali and Ahmed, who, with their
flocks, settled on the western slopes of Jebel Marra. Ali, who was older
and better off than his brother, had recently married a beautiful young
girl of his own tribe, and she, in turn, being constantly thrown with
her brother-in-law, who was celebrated for his bravery, conceived a
great fancy for him. One day, when her husband was away, she confessed
her feelings to Ahmed, and implored him to help her out of her misery;
but Ahmed's sentiments of right and honour in regard to his brother's
wife could not be overcome by this appeal, though he promised that her
secret should never be divulged. The girl fell ill, and in her jealous
love determined that her brother-in-law should never marry another; she
therefore called her husband to her side and bade him swear, under a
solemn oath, that he would never disclose what she was about to tell
him, and then she whispered that his brother never ceased making love to
her. Ali, horror-stricken at the thought of the deception of Ahmed, whom
he dearly loved, and to whom he confided everything, was beside himself
with grief; but he could not bring himself to believe entirely in his
brother's perfidy, though the seeds of mistrust were sown. Meanwhile
Ahmed, knowing that his sister-in-law's jealousy was aroused, did all he
could by kindness and sympathy to pacify her and to treat her as if
nothing had happened; the result, of course, being that Ali's suspicion
grew into certainty, and he determined on revenge. He could not bear the
thought of killing him, but wanted to inflict on him some lasting
injury. Two days later, he determined to move camp, and, sending on all
his people with their flocks and herds, he remained behind with his
brother, and began talking to him about ordinary matters. From this they
got into a discussion on arms, and Ali, playfully drawing out his sword,
in an unguarded moment struck Ahmed a blow on his right leg, severing
the tendon Achilles; and then, making off as quickly as he could, he
left his unfortunate brother weltering in his blood, who, too proud to
cry out, calmly awaited death. This Ahmed el Makur (signifies one who is
wounded, applying more especially to the sort of wound he received) was
destined to become the founder of a new dynasty in Darfur, and this is
how it came about.

Ali, whose love for his brother was not altogether extinguished, sent
two of his slaves, Zayed and Birged (the forefathers of the great
Zayedia and Birged tribes), with two camels, two she-camels, and a few
necessaries, in search of Ahmed, but at the same time he told them that
on no account were they to bring him back. He himself returned to the
west, and, as the story goes, separated soon afterwards from his wife,
as he could not bear the thought of his brother's supposed perfidy. The
slaves, finding Ahmed unconscious from loss of blood, revived him, and
at his request brought him to the nearest native settlement, where he
was well received, and King Kor (the last of the Tago dynasty) was
informed that a foreigner, who had been wounded in the leg by his
brother, was in their village. The king ordered Ahmed to be brought
before him, in order to hear from his own lips the account of this
strange event. Ahmed, however, refused to explain, and the matter
remained a mystery; but he was taken care of and permitted to stay in
the king's household. King Kor, like all his predecessors, was a
heathen; he had become ruler by violence, was utterly ignorant of the
outside world, and did not even know of the existence of any country
outside his own immediate dominions; beyond making occasional raids from
his mountain strongholds on the dwellers in the plains, he seldom left
his hills. This savage old king took a fancy to the stranger, made him
director of his household, and consulted him on all occasions. Gradually
Ahmed rose to power. By judicious management he brought the unruly Tago
chiefs into subjection, and portioned out the land amongst the poorer
inhabitants, thus putting a stop to the constant internal raiding, and
introducing a feeling of security and contentment hitherto quite
unknown. Ahmed during his long journey from Tunis had passed through
many distant kingdoms, and, being a man of sense, he was able to apply
his knowledge in introducing a number of reforms. One of those, still
quoted, is the wonderful change he effected in the king's household. It
had been the custom for centuries for any retainer to take his food at
the time it pleased him, quite regardless of the wants of others. It
therefore frequently happened that, "first come, first served," nothing
remained for the later arrivals, who, in their anger, would fall on
their comrades, and as often as not blood would be shed. Ahmed reformed
all this by establishing a fixed hour for meals, at which all must be
present, with the happy result that peace and tranquillity prevailed.

In this and a hundred other ways did Ahmed show his capacity, and became
much beloved by the king, who, having no successors, gave him his
favourite daughter as a wife, and before his death nominated him as his
successor to the throne.

Almost all the inhabitants had a great respect for Ahmed, and on Kor's
death they made him their king. The news spread far and wide, and on it
becoming known to the Tungurs in Bornu and Wadai, they flocked into the
country in such numbers as to partially displace the Tago; and now the
only small settlements left of the former rulers are near Dara, where
there is a Tago Sheikh, and also at Dar Sula, a long way to the west,
where there is a semi-independent ruler called "Sultan Abu Risha et
Tagawi," who is also known as "El Jamus el asfar," or the yellow
buffalo.

Ahmed el Makur ruled happily for a long period, and a regular male
succession was established. His great grandson was the celebrated Sultan
"Dali," whose mother belonged to the Kera-Fur tribe, and thus
consanguinity was established between the Blacks and the Tungur dynasty.
Dali was a very enlightened ruler; he travelled a great deal, and
collected round him many men who could read and write; he divided the
country into provinces and districts, and wrote the celebrated
"Kitab-Dali," or penal code. The system of government inaugurated by
Dali was carefully followed by his successors, and continued in use up
to the middle of the present century. One of the most noted of the
Darfur rulers was Suleiman, who, being the son of an Arab mother, and
having himself married an Arab woman, took the title of Solong, which
is generally applied to those who consider themselves of Arab descent.
It was through him that the country was definitely moslemised; and his
descendants, up to 1875, proudly boast of their Arab descent, and
entirely ignore the Black element, which undoubtedly is there, and which
may be said to show itself in the bitter hatred which has always existed
between the ruling Darfur family and the nomad Arabs.

In accordance with Dali's code, the descent should devolve on the eldest
son; but gradually the custom obtained of selecting one of the sons
(provided he was in the direct line) who happened to be the most popular
in the estimation of the court dignitaries, and especially in that of
the "Abu Sheikh," the name given to the principal eunuch of the royal
household. A rigorous exclusion was exercised over all sons who were
addicted to alcohol or marissa.

Suleiman was succeeded by his son Musa, and the latter by his son Ahmed
Bakr, who did all in his power to introduce foreigners into the country,
as he hoped thereby to benefit his people. He was succeeded by his son
Mohammed Dura, who is said to have had over a hundred brothers, of whom
he caused fifty to be killed on coming to the throne; he is also
credited with having killed his eldest son, whom he suspected of having
pretensions to make himself king.

On his death his son Omar Leila succeeded, and he also was as unpopular
as his father. He took command of the Darfur army which invaded Wadai,
and was killed, being succeeded by his uncle, Abu el Kasem, who, with
his brothers Mohammed Terab and Abderrahman, was amongst those who had
escaped the slaughter when Mohammed Dura came to the throne. Abu el
Kasem showed a great inclination to the Blacks, and incurred, in
consequence, the hostility of his relations, who urged him to take the
field against Wadai, and, having advanced, suddenly deserted him with
the army, leaving him the Blacks only. It is said by some that he was at
once killed in the battle which ensued, while others state that he
remained for some time in Wadai, and then returned to attack his
brother, Mohammed Terab, by whom he had been succeeded. The latter
proved himself a capable and energetic ruler, but towards the close of
his reign he conceived the idea of enlarging his dominions and restoring
the country to its early limits, which, it will be remembered, extended
as far as the Atbara. He therefore issued a decree declaring war against
the Fungs, and advanced with his brother Abderrahman and a mass of
warriors, both horsemen and spearmen, in an easterly direction.
Eventually they arrived at Omdurman, the present Dervish capital of the
Sudan, and, to their surprise, found their further progress stopped by
the Nile. The inhabitants had removed all the boats, so the construction
of a bridge was attempted; but to cross a rapid river six hundred yards
broad, was a task beyond the powers of the Darfur king, who remained
stationary for months at Omdurman, vainly making attempt after attempt
to overcome this impassable obstacle. At length the chiefs, despairing
of success, approached the king, and urged that the army should return
to Kordofan and Darfur; but the latter, furious at his failure,
threatened any one with death who should show any inclination to
retreat. The leaders, however, were not to be baffled; secretly
arranging with the king's favourite wife, Khadija, they convinced her
that she would be performing a public service by poisoning her husband's
food, which she did, nothing loath, and Abderrahman succeeded to the
throne.

The stone walls erected by Sultan Mohammed Terab are to be seen to this
day at the south end of Omdurman. His body was embalmed, taken to Bara,
and conveyed thence to Tura, in Jebel Marra, some thirty-five miles west
of El Fasher, the burial-place of the old Darfur sultans.

Abderrahman and the army returned to Darfur to find that Mohammed
Terab's son, Ishaak, who had been appointed regent, refused to
acknowledge his authority; with the result that a battle took place, in
which Ishaak was killed.

Abderrahman's favourite wife was a certain Umbusa, of the Begu tribe.
This tribe had emigrated from Bahr el Ghazal many years before, had
settled in Darfur, and had been granted lands by the kings, on condition
that they should annually supply a beautiful girl for the royal harem.
The Begus are a purely African race, descended from the Monolké family,
and Umbusa, besides being a great beauty, was endowed with exceptionally
high qualities, which induced Abderrahman to raise her to the status of
a legal wife; and in his advanced age she bore him a son, who was named
Mohammed el Fadl.

It was during Abderrahman's reign that the traveller Browne visited
Darfur, and it was this Sultan who in 1799 sent an address of
congratulation to Napoleon, then campaigning in Lower Egypt, and
received from him in return a present of two thousand Black slaves.
During his reign also the nominal capital of Kobbé was abandoned for El
Fasher, which henceforth became the royal residence.

Abderrahman, before his death, placed his son in charge of the chief
eunuch, Abu Sheikh Kura, who had originally been a slave, but had risen
to a high position in the royal household; and at the age of thirteen,
the youth succeeded to the throne. It is related that when Abderrahman
died, Umbusa's father, Omar, was tending the flocks in Dar Begu, some
fifty miles southwest of El Fasher, when suddenly a messenger was seen
galloping a horse covered with foam, which fell dead before reaching
him: the messenger, rushing forward, cried, "I bring you the glad
tidings that the son of your noble daughter Umbusa was made Sultan of
Darfur five days ago." Without saying a word, Omar broke with his foot
the wall of the dabarek,[1] and caused the water to flow over the sand,
and then shouted, "No more shall the flocks of my family water at this
well, for the great and merciful God has chosen my grandson to be ruler
over Darfur;" and, saying this, he at once distributed his herds amongst
those present, and then without delay proceeded to his grandson at El
Fasher.

Mohammed el Fadl's first step as Sultan was to declare his mother's
tribe as free for ever, the annual tribute of a girl was no longer to be
exacted, and buying and selling of Begus was made a crime punishable by
death. For some four years the young king, under the guidance of Kura,
ruled with energy and justice; but now intrigues crept in: it was
whispered by some that Kura aimed at supreme power, while others
asserted that the king was doing his utmost to deprive him of his
authority; mutual mistrust, resulting in an open quarrel, prevailed, and
in a fight which took place on the Rahad River, Kura was defeated, taken
prisoner, and instantly executed.

After this, Mohammed el Fadl determined to coerce the proud Arab tribes
who hesitated to comply with his orders and who frequently attempted to
shake off the Darfurian yoke. His first step was to despatch the
official in charge of Dara to the Beni Helba Arabs, who had refused to
pay tribute; these were speedily coerced, and almost all their property
confiscated; he then turned to the Ereikat tribe,--one of the most
powerful in Darfur,--and these also were soon reduced to complete
submission; but to subjugate the great Rizighat tribe was a more
difficult matter. This was the most warlike and powerful tribe in the
country. Several centuries ago an Arab from the far west named Ruzeik
and his three sons, Mahmud, Maher, and Nueib, with their families,
flocks, and herds, emigrated to the southern districts of Darfur; here
in the vast forests they found abundance of food for themselves, and in
these dense and pathless regions they were safe from intrusion. As time
went on their numbers rapidly increased, and, being joined by numerous
smaller tribes, they became a power in the land, and the Sultans of
Darfur were unable to gain their entire submission. Moreover, the
districts they peopled were infested in winter by the Um Bogone (a kind
of insect somewhat resembling the tsetse fly), which killed off the
cattle.

Mohammed Fadl now decided that the only way to deal with the Rizighat
was to completely surround them; by degrees their forests were encircled
by myriads of Darfurians, and gradually the human chain closed in on the
luckless tribesmen, who were slaughtered wholesale. At length some
captives, being brought before the Sultan, were asked where the main
body of the Rizighat was to be found. "Sire," they answered, "we have
all been separated and dispersed amongst your own army;" whereupon the
Sultan issued orders to his chiefs that all men of over thirty years of
age wearing beards were to be slain; and after this order had been
carried out, the survivors, who were all young men, and some thousands
in number, were brought before him. These he classified according to
their original families, and divided them into two sections: the first
section were allowed to take back their captured wives and children and
a proportion of their cattle, and were permitted to remain in their
country; also to each widow whose husband had been killed in battle a
milch-cow and an ox were given.

The second division, which was composed principally of the descendants
of the families of Mohammed, Maher, and Nueib, were ordered to move into
the northern districts of Darfur, and to occupy the lands formerly owned
by the now almost exterminated Ereikat tribe. This section eventually
developed into the powerful tribes now known as the Mahamid, Maheria,
and Nueiba, who are, of course, the blood-relatives of the Rizighat, who
are, in their turn, a division of the Baggara, or cattle-owning Arabs of
the Western Sudan.

Mohammed el Fadl died early in 1838, and was succeeded by his son,
Mohammed Hussein, who did his utmost to recover the popularity which his
father had lost; about the year 1856, however, he became blind, and
delegated most of his official work to his eldest sister, Iya Basi
Zemzem,--it being an ancient Darfur custom that the eldest sister of the
reigning Sultan should receive the title of Iya Basi, and exercise a
certain political influence. This worthy lady was both extravagant and
immoral; the conduct of her court was notorious, and absorbed most of
the state revenues. At this period the provinces of Bahr el Ghazal were
subject to Darfur, and the Black tribes paid tribute of slaves and ivory
to the Sultans. It often happened that the payment of this tribute was
delayed, and this at once offered a pretext for a raid, in which the
Darfurians invariably obtained large quantities of spoil. The ivory and
many of the slaves were sold to the Egyptian merchants who travelled
along the Arbaïn road between Assiut and Darfur, and for these, Turkish
and European wares were exchanged. This trade was most lucrative on both
sides, and gradually quantities of gold-brocaded stuffs, richly
caparisoned saddles, silk embroideries, and other articles of luxury
found their way into Darfur, besides quantities of jewellery as well as
arms and ammunition.

And now we come to the period when the famous Zubeir Pasha enters on the
scenes. A member of the Gemiab section of the Jaalin tribe, he quitted
Khartum as a young man, and went south in search of a fortune. Already
several merchants and slave-traders were established in the White Nile
and Bahr el Ghazal districts, and the young Zubeir became the assistant
of the well-known Ali Abu Amuri, so often mentioned by Sir Samuel Baker.
Affairs prospered with him, and eventually he was able to set up an
independent establishment, or zariba, of his own,--his labours lay, so
to speak, in virgin soil; with well-armed bands of natives he gradually
succeeded in annexing territories and amassing quantities of ivory and
slaves, which he exchanged with the Nile merchants for arms and
ammunition. I do not think Zubeir Pasha was any worse or any better than
the hundreds of other merchants occupied in a traffic which at that time
was considered perfectly legitimate; but there is no doubt that he was a
man of iron will, and of an energy and intelligence far above the
average; and to these qualities may be attributed his ultimate success
as an ivory and slave dealer. It is not my intention to describe the
various steps by which he became practically ruler of the Bahr el
Ghazal; it will be sufficient for my present purpose to say that at the
time of which I write he had become one of the most powerful men in the
Sudan, and it was not long before the tottering kingdom of Darfur fell
bodily into his hands; and this is how it came about.

Zubeir, gradually extending his conquests into the northern districts of
Bahr el Ghazal, began to encroach on those regions which were tributary
to the Sultan of Darfur, and, anxious to avoid a quarrel, he wrote to
Sultan Hussein to the effect that Blacks who had no masters, and were
heathens, were, in accordance with the law of the Prophet, the fair
spoil of the Moslems; to which Hussein replied that he, too, being a
descendant of the ancient line, claimed similar rights to deal with
Black slaves and horse-dealers. By this latter epithet he referred to
Zubeir, whom he classed amongst the other Jaalin known to the Darfurians
as vendors of Dongola horses.

Zubeir, however, was not to be thwarted, and year by year his influence
increased, until he had complete possession of all the Bahr el Ghazal
districts which had paid tribute to Darfur. The effect of this on the
luxury-loving Darfurians was painfully evident. They saw their main
source of ivory and slave supplies cut off, and to meet the Government
expenditure increased taxation was enforced, which resulted in
widespread discontent.

At this time there lived in Sultan Hussein's palace a certain Mohammed
Belali of the Belalia tribe, which is settled partly in Wadai and partly
in Bornu. This man was a fiki, or religious teacher, and claimed noble
descent, thereby ingratiating himself with Hussein, much to the
annoyance of Iya Basi and the Vizir Ahmed Shata, who resented his
interference, and eventually induced the Sultan to drive him out of the
country.

[Illustration: Zubeir Pasha.]

Breathing threats of vengeance, he proceeded to Khartum and informed the
Government of the immense riches and fertility of the province of Bahr
el Ghazal and the Hofret en Nahas district, which no longer belonged to
Darfur, and were now without a ruler. The astute Belali, whose sole
object was to injure Sultan Hussein for having driven him out of the
country, conceived this plot, which was destined to bring about a war
with Darfur. Thoroughly trusted by the ignorant Khartum authorities, he
was despatched, in company with Kutshuk Ali, who commanded some
bashi-bozuks and two hundred regulars, to take possession of those
supposed rulerless regions. As may be imagined, Zubeir looked with no
friendly eye on the intrigues of this upstart; but, with his far-seeing
astuteness, he watched and waited patiently for the further development
of his rival's plans. Meanwhile Kutshuk Ali died suddenly, and was
replaced by Haj Ali Abu Nurein; and, at the instigation of the latter,
Belali, emboldened by Zubeir's inaction, proceeded to seize some large
stores of grain which he had prepared for his Bazingers. Zubeir did not
hesitate to seize this chance, and, falling on him suddenly, drove him
and his men off with some loss. Belali now collected as many men as he
could, and made a determined attack on Zubeir's zariba, but was again
repulsed. Severely wounded himself, he fled to Ganda, where he was
pursued, captured by Zubeir's men, and taken back to the zariba, where
he died.

Zubeir, however, was not slow to perceive that his action in this matter
might have serious consequences. He therefore did all in his power to
show that Belali was entirely to blame for what had occurred, and, by
making valuable presents to Belali's men as well as to those in
authority, he succeeded in having the matter reported to Khartum in its
most favourable aspect, with the result that he received a full pardon,
and was appointed Governor of Bahr el Ghazal.

Soon afterwards he confidentially pointed out to the Governor-General
that great discontent prevailed in the neighbouring State of Darfur, and
that he had relations with some of the principal dignitaries who would
gladly see the country annexed to Egypt; and he also volunteered to
carry this out without further assistance from the Government. After
much deliberation his proposal was at length agreed to, and early in
1873 he made preparations to seize Shakka.

Let us turn now for a moment to the Rizighat. For years following on the
terrible treatment they had received at the hands of the Darfur Sultan,
they remained quiet and submissive, but gradually, as the governing
power in Darfur grew weak, they recovered in proportion, and again
assumed a semi-independent position between Darfur and Bahr el Ghazal.
Attempts were made to collect taxes from them, but they almost
invariably drove off the tax-gatherers, and in one of these raids the
Vizir Adam Tarbush, one of the principal Darfur commanders, lost his
life,--curiously enough at the very spot where, some years later, I was
destined to suffer a heavy defeat at the hands of the Dervishes.

On another occasion the Rizighat had fallen on a large caravan coming
from the Nile and Kordofan to Bahr el Ghazal, with which were a number
of Zubeir's relatives, almost all of whom were killed. Zubeir, rightly
considering that the Rizighat owed allegiance to the Sultan of Darfur,
called on the latter for compensation for the losses he had sustained;
but the Sultan either would not or could not give it, and Zubeir now
openly gave out that, being unable to obtain satisfaction, he had
determined to punish the Rizighat,--being well aware that this must lead
to the fulfilment of the project to annex Darfur.

Meanwhile early in 1873 Sultan Hussein had died and had been succeeded
by his son, who was nicknamed by the Darfurians Ibrahim Kuiko. I may
here mention that some years later, when residing at El Fasher as
Governor, I made the acquaintance of the celebrated Fiki Mohammed el
Heliki, who, though a Fellata by race, had been born there, and was
infinitely the best authority on the former history of Darfur. It
greatly interested one to talk to this man, and I made a mass of notes
which, with many other interesting records, fell subsequently into the
hands of the Mahdists, and were burnt. I well remember Fiki Mohammed one
day telling me the following story: "Three years," he began, "before
the death of my master, Sultan Hussein,--may God give him peace,--I was
talking to him about the present and future of the country. Bowing down
his head and supporting it in his hand,--for the poor man had been blind
for the last thirteen years,--he said, 'I feel that my country and the
throne of my ancestors are about to be overthrown; God grant I may not
live to see that day! Already I seem to hear the trumpets of the Turks
and the distant sound of the ombeÿa blown by the Bahhara.[2] May God
have mercy on my son Ibrahim and on my unfortunate descendants!'" The
fiki then went on to tell me that in spite of his old age and blindness,
Sultan Hussein well knew the state of corruption of his country, and how
impossible it was for him to check it; he realised the growing desire of
the Egyptians to increase their conquests, and he instinctively knew
that Zubeir and his Bazingers would be their instruments. He was a wise
man, he said, and though God had deprived him of sight, He had sharpened
his intellect.

Zubeir now lost no time in beginning operations. Quitting his fortified
post of Dem Zubeir with a considerable force, he advanced towards
Shakka, and on reaching the southern frontiers of Darfur he was joined
by some of the principal chiefs of the Rizighat, such as Madibbo, Egeil
Wad el Jangawi, and several of their men, who, being well acquainted
with the districts, acted as his spies and scouts, and considerably
facilitated his advance through their country, which was hostile.

Attacked incessantly by the Arabs, and suffering greatly from sickness
and privations, Zubeir's force advanced steadily, and at length reached
Abu Sigan, which is the centre of the Shakka district. There he learnt
that Sultan Ibrahim had despatched a strong force against him, under his
Vizir (and father-in-law, Ahmed Shata, Ibrahim having married his
daughter, Um Giddein). The latter, since the accession of his
son-in-law, had grown discontented, and showed much reluctance in
taking command of the expedition against Zubeir. He had told his friends
he did not seek victory, but preferred to die honourably in the field
rather than continue to live under the new rule. Zubeir meanwhile
strengthened his position at Shakka, and made all preparations for the
impending attack. He now received from the Rizighat a truly
characteristic Arab message: "The army of the Sultan of Darfur is
advancing. You and they are our enemies. When you begin fighting, we
shall remain neutral. If you are defeated, we shall harass you on your
retreat, and shall kill you all. If you conquer, then shall we mount our
swift horses, follow up the Darfurians, and share with you the booty."
Zubeir was quite satisfied with this arrangement, and patiently awaited
events. In the early dawn his outposts saw in the far distance the great
Darfur army advancing, led by the warriors in coats of mail, wearing
chain helmets, and mounted on richly caparisoned horses, whose gold and
silver trappings glittered in the morning sun. In front of all, advanced
the Vizir Ahmed Shata, as if seeking death. Zubeir withdrew all his men
within the intrenchments, and when the Darfur host had approached
sufficiently near, he opened a deadly fire on them. The Vizir's horse
was instantly shot; but, mounting another, he continued to advance until
he fell, riddled with bullets; and with him many of his relations and
members of his household, including Melek Sad en Nur and Melek en Nahas
(the chief of the copper drums), whom the Sultan had placed as his
second in command.

Deprived of their leaders, the troops retired, and Zubeir seized the
opportunity to make a counter attack on their flank, which broke up the
army, and caused it to disperse in all directions. Instantly, from
behind the trees, dashed clouds of Rizighat horsemen, who slaughtered
the flying Darfurians, capturing immense quantities of valuable loot,
and now they entirely threw in their lot with the conquerors, with the
certainty that they would reap considerable benefit.

[Illustration: A Rizighat Warrior.]

The few who succeeded in escaping the massacre fled to Dara, while
Zubeir sent messages to El Obeid and Khartum, announcing the victory,
and asking for the reinforcements of troops and guns which, in the event
of his success, the authorities had agreed to place at his disposal. In
due time these arrived, and he continued his advance towards Dara, his
flank being covered by the advance of the Governor-General from El Obeid
to Om Shanga, at the head of three thousand regulars and a number of
irregular horsemen.

With the exception of one small skirmish, Zubeir entered Dara unopposed,
to find it completely deserted. Erecting a small fort on the sand-hill,
he awaited the attack of Sultan Ibrahim's sons; but the latter, at the
head of a considerable force, merely reconnoitred the position, and,
returning to their father at El Fasher, urged him to lead his troops
against Zubeir. Ibrahim now collected every available man; but large as
were his hosts, there were few amongst them ready to lay down their
lives for their ruler. At the head of his army, the Sultan advanced to
some houses which had belonged to the late Vizir, and which were almost
within range of the sand-hill, while Zubeir withdrew his troops into
Dara, where he had made all preparations for a siege, and had collected
a large store of grain.

Wishing to make a close inspection of Zubeir's position, Ibrahim, with a
portion of his force, approached the town, and was met by a storm of
bullets which killed several of his men, and forced him to retire. The
remainder of his force, seeing what appeared to them to have been an
attack by the Sultan on Zubeir's position, which had failed, made some
mocking remarks within his hearing. Burning with anger, he ordered some
of his riflemen to advance and fire on his own troops, who were retiring
on the camp, with the result that several were killed and wounded, and
the remainder dispersed, while many of those within the camp took
advantage of the confusion to desert to their homes.

Thus was Sultan Ibrahim the means of the destruction of his own army.
And this incident subsequently lost him his kingdom and his life.

He now ordered what remained of his army to retire to Manawashi, making
his chiefs believe that by this movement Zubeir would be drawn out of
Dara, and he would be able to attack him in the open; but his men had
now lost all confidence in him, and his army was still further reduced
by numerous desertions. Zubeir, who had full information from his spies
of what was going on in the Sultan's camp, now followed him to
Manawashi, and formed up in battle array, awaiting attack. His arrival
was the signal for a general scuttle; men, women, and children fled in
all directions; and Ibrahim, knowing that all was lost, determined to
die an honourable death. Donning his coat of mail and helmet, and
accompanied by his sons, the Kadi, and a few servants, all mounted on
their magnificently trapped steeds, they sallied forth, and with drawn
swords dashed at the enemy. Cutting his way through the first line of
Bazingers, Ibrahim shouted, "Fein sidkum ez Zubeir?" (Where is your
master, Zubeir?), and then made for the spot where Zubeir, dressed like
his own men, was directing a gun against the assailants; but he had only
gone forward a few steps when he and his little party fell, riddled with
bullets. Thus perished the last of the long line of kings of Darfur, who
had ruled this vast country and its millions of inhabitants
uninterruptedly for centuries.

Zubeir ordered the dead Sultan to be treated with the greatest respect.
The fikis of Manawashi were directed to wash the body in accordance with
the religious rites; and, wrapped in a costly shroud, it was buried with
all honour in the mosque of the town.

He now lost no time in informing the Governor-General, then at Om
Shanga, of the victory; and the latter, anxious that the rich plunder of
the province should not fall into Zubeir's hands, hurried forward
without delay.

Meanwhile, Zubeir, advancing rapidly, arrived at El Fasher in two days,
and took possession of the royal treasures, as well as quantities of
silver-embossed saddles, arms, jewellery, and thousands of female
slaves, whom he distributed amongst his men.

A few days afterwards, Ismail Pasha, the Governor-General, arrived, but
he was too late; the greater quantity of treasure had already been
distributed, though Zubeir, by offering him costly presents, did all he
could to secure his friendship. There is no doubt, however, that this
episode was the commencement of the quarrel between the two men, which
eventually developed into mutual deadly hatred.

The work of subduing the remainder of the country now began. Hasaballa,
the old uncle of Sultan Ibrahim, had taken refuge in Jebel Marra, and
Ismail Pasha ordered Zubeir to advance against him. It was not long
before he succeeded in obtaining the submission of both him and the late
Sultan's brother, Abderrahman Shattut, both of whom were subsequently
sent to Cairo,--and they died there; but their families are residing at
the present time in Upper Egypt, and are in receipt of a liberal pension
from the Government. Several of their adherents, however, still held out
in Jebel Marra, and, electing two younger brothers of Sultan Hussein,
viz., Bosh and Seif ed Din, as their leaders, they showed a
determination to resist. Bosh's first step was to send a certain
Gabralla, of the Fur tribe, as a spy to Zubeir's camp. This man enjoyed
the entire confidence of his chief, who had given him in marriage his
beautiful daughter, Um Selima, in spite of the opposition of the family.
Gabralla, on reaching Zubeir's camp, fell an easy prey to that astute
warrior. The promise of pardon and a high position under the Government
were quite sufficient inducements to him to betray his father-in-law and
give the fullest information as to his position and strength. He then
returned to Bosh, whom he advised to remain where he was, as Zubeir's
troops were suffering much from the cold and disease, and he had no
intention to attack. Zubeir was, however, following in Gabralla's
footsteps, and on a given signal, previously arranged between them,
Bosh's camp was suddenly surprised, and easily fell into his hands,
though Bosh and Seif ed Din succeeded in escaping to Kebkebia, where
they again collected a force. Zubeir, however, followed them up, and in
the pitched battle which ensued, both leaders were killed, and the last
remnant of the Darfur force finally dispersed, leaving the country
entirely in the hands of the Egyptian Government.

Zubeir, now promoted to the rank of Pasha, returned to El Fasher, where
Ismail Pasha was occupied in regulating the administration of the
country and freely levying taxes; and it was not long before serious
differences between the two men arose.

Zubeir, having conquered the country, was somewhat resentful that its
government had not been confided to him, while Ismail, anxious to free
himself from the incubus of Zubeir, ordered him to occupy Dara and
Shakka with his troops; but the latter, angry at the treatment he had
received, despatched a message from Dara, _via_ El Obeid, to H. H. the
Khedive, Ismail Pasha, begging to be allowed to come to Cairo.
Permission was immediately accorded to him and any others who wished to
proceed; and Zubeir, having appointed his son Suleiman as his agent,
started without delay, taking with him numbers of male and female slaves
and valuable presents. Travelling by Khartum and Korosko, he at length
reached Cairo, where he was cordially received, and lost no time in
laying before the Khedive his grounds of complaint against Ismail Pasha
Ayub. The latter was, in consequence, summoned to Egypt, and made
several charges against Zubeir, with the result that both were kept in
Cairo.

Meanwhile, Hassan Pasha Helmi el Juwaizer had been appointed the
representative of the Government in Darfur, and it was not long before
the inhabitants began to settle down under the new system. They were
tired of the arbitrary rule of the Sultans, and longed for change; but
they soon discovered that if their kings had chastised them with whips,
their new rulers, in the shape of Zubeir's Bazingers and the crowds of
irregular Shaigias and dishonest Egyptian officials, who swarmed into
the country, chastised them with scorpions.

It was not long before the most bitter discontent prevailed throughout
the country, and already there appeared signs of revolt. Electing Harun
er Reshid, the son of Seif ed Din, as their Sultan, they secretly
planned the massacre of several of the small outlying garrisons, and in
an incredibly short space of time the larger towns of Dara, El Fasher,
Kebkebia, and Kulkul were closely invested. At El Fasher, the fort was
twice almost successfully stormed, and on one occasion the Governor,
feeling that it must fall, had made all preparations to blow up the
powder magazine and destroy himself and his garrison; but fortunately
the troops, after a desperate encounter, succeeded in driving the enemy
out of the position.

Meanwhile the Khartum authorities lost no time in sending a relieving
force under Abd er Razzak Pasha, which, reinforced at El Obeid, advanced
to Darfur by forced marches, and at a place called Brush, midway between
Om Shanga and El Fasher, they inflicted a heavy defeat on the rebels.
Pushing on rapidly, El Fasher was relieved a few days later,
reinforcements were sent to Kebkebia and Kulkul, and the country was
once more made subject to the Egyptian Government.

On the recall of Ismail Pasha Ayub, Gordon was appointed
Governor-General of the Sudan, and, as I have already related, he
thought it expedient to visit Darfur without delay. In fact, when he
reached El Fasher, Kebkebia, and Kulkul, the revolt was only partially
suppressed; but, utterly fearless, he rode with only a small escort all
over the country, and frequently placed himself in positions of extreme
danger, from which his pluck and presence of mind alone saved him. From
El Fasher he visited Dara, and by his kindness and sympathy with the
people he succeeded in a large measure in quieting the districts; with a
mere handful of men and the assistance of a few Rizighat Arabs he
completely quelled the Mima and Khawabir Arabs, who were the most
restless and independent tribes in the country, and gradually through
his efforts peace was once more established throughout the land.

Sultan Harun with a few followers had taken refuge in the wilds of Jebel
Marra, where they had been followed by Hassan Pasha Helmi, who twice
defeated them, at Murtal and Murtafal, and had pursued the survivors as
far as Niurnia.

Gordon now turned his attention to the establishment of a Government
administration; his first step was to remit the greater part of the
taxes, which, owing to the war, could not possibly have been paid, and
he gave strict injunctions to the officials to deal leniently with the
people, warning them that any disregard of his orders in this respect
would be dealt with very severely. In order to equalise revenue and
expenditure as far as possible, he reduced the Darfur garrison
considerably, sending back to El Obeid and Khartum a large number of the
regular infantry and cavalry who had been despatched to quell the late
revolt. These economical measures, although undoubtedly very necessary
in the interests of the new province, had subsequently a most disastrous
effect.

Official business obliged him to return to Khartum, leaving Hassan Pasha
Helmi as Governor; and the latter, four months before my arrival, was
relieved by Messedaglia Bey, who had been Governor of Dara for a few
months.

Harun, meanwhile, had somewhat recovered himself, and established a
species of independent rule in Niurnia, which had been in early times
the capital of the Tago princes; from thence he would occasionally
descend to the plains and raid the villages which had submitted to
Government, returning laden with booty to his stronghold.

Such was briefly the state of the province of Darfur when I arrived at
El Fasher. The garrison of this town consisted of two battalions of
regulars, two batteries of field artillery, and two hundred and fifty
irregular Shaigia horsemen, under Omar Wad Darho; at Dara there was one
battalion of regulars, one field battery, fifty irregular horsemen, and
two hundred irregular riflemen, or Bazingers; while in Kebkebia and
Kulkul there were six companies of regulars, four hundred Bazingers, and
twenty-five horsemen.

After a few days' rest at El Fasher, Dr. Zurbuchen and I continued our
journey to Dara, and were accompanied a short distance along the road by
Messedaglia Bey, who told us that his wife was coming to Khartum, and
that he was asking for leave of absence to go and meet her there and
bring her to El Fasher. I suggested that it would be advisable to wait
till Sultan Harun had been dealt with before bringing his wife so far;
but Messedaglia replied there was not the least cause for fear, and that
there were now quite sufficient troops in the country to suppress any
local difficulties. I had heard, however, that Harun's influence was
considerable, and that there was some apprehension that the now reduced
Government forces might be hard pressed. Having only just come to the
country and having had no previous experience, it was of course
impossible for me to judge; I therefore accepted Messedaglia's views on
the situation, and, bidding him and Said Bey Guma, the commandant,
farewell, we hurried on towards Dara, our road taking us through Keriut,
Ras el Fil, and Shieria.

Zurbuchen was a very much older-looking man than myself, with a long
black beard and spectacles, whilst I looked perhaps even younger than I
was. The hair on my upper lip had scarcely begun to sprout, and
altogether I had a most boyish face; consequently wherever we went he
was invariably taken for the Governor, and I for the doctor or
apothecary. As we approached the end of our journey, the doctor, who was
suffering from fever, had to ride slowly, and to save time for official
work, I rode on slightly ahead, and happened to reach the village of
Shieria (a day's march from Dara) a little before the appointed time. I
found the villagers busily preparing for our reception, the houses were
being swept out, straw mats laid down, and the Kadi and Sheikh had
spread out their carpets, on which the new Governor was to repose.
Making my camel kneel down, I got off, and to inquiries as to who I was,
I answered, "One of the new Governor's escort;" having previously warned
the rest of my escort to say nothing. The inquisitive villagers now
assailed me with innumerable questions. "What sort of man is the new
Governor?" said one. "Oh," I replied, "I think he will do his best, and
I believe he is inclined to be just and easy going." "But is he brave
and kind-hearted," said another. This was rather a puzzling question to
answer, so I replied guardedly, "He does not look as if he were afraid,
but I haven't yet heard much about his courage; he has a manly
appearance, and I believe he is kind-hearted; but of course it is
impossible for him to satisfy every one." "Ah!" said another, "if we
only had a governor like Gordon Pasha, then the country would indeed be
contented; he never ceased to distribute money and presents, and never
sent the poor and needy away without giving them something. I only once
heard him say some harsh words, and that was when Suleiman Zubeir was at
Dara, and when he turned to the Kadi, saying that there were several bad
characters amongst the Sudanese, and that it did not always do to treat
them leniently." "Yes," chimed in the Kadi, "I heard him say so myself;
but he referred only to the Gellabas and traders who came from the Nile,
and who were implicated with Zubeir and his son in every description of
unlawful trade by which they could benefit themselves."

"Gordon was indeed a brave man," said the Sheikh of the village, who
introduced himself as Muslem Wad Kabbashi, "I was one of his chiefs in
the fight against the Mima and Khawabir Arabs: it was in the plain of
Fafa and a very hot day. The enemy had charged us and had forced back
the first line, and their spears were falling thick around us; one came
within a hair's breadth of Gordon, but he did not seem to mind it at
all, and the victory we won was entirely due to him and his reserve of
one hundred men. When the fight was at its worst, he found time to light
a cigarette. Never in my life did I see such a thing; and then the
following day, when he divided the spoil, no one was forgotten, and he
kept nothing for himself. He was very tender-hearted about women and
children, and never allowed them to be distributed, as is our custom in
war; but he fed and clothed them at his own expense, and had them sent
to their homes as soon as the war was over. One day," continued the
Sheikh, "without letting him know, we put some women aside; but if he
had found us out, we should have had a bad time of it."

After a short pause, I inquired about affairs in Dara and about the
qualifications of the various officials; for I had already heard that
they were very unreliable, and I was now told that they looked on my
advent with no friendly eye.

Meanwhile Dr. Zurbuchen and the rest of the caravan had arrived, and at
once the Sheikh, Kadi, and other village dignitaries lined up in a
semi-circle to receive him, while I, concealing myself as much as
possible, awaited with amusement to hear what Muslem Wad Kabbashi would
say; he began with warm welcome to the new Governor, praised his
qualifications, and eloquently described the joy of all his people at
his arrival. Poor Dr. Zurbuchen, whose comprehension of Arabic was very
slight, became more and more perplexed. "Indeed I am not the Governor,"
he urged, "I am only the Sanitary Inspector. The Governor must have
arrived long ago; but as he had only a few people with him, perhaps he
has been mistaken for some one else." I now thought it time to step
forward, and laughingly thanked the villagers for their kind reception,
assuring them that I would do all in my power to satisfy their wants,
and that at the same time I looked to them to assist me in seeing my
orders carried out. Of course they made the most profuse apologies for
the mistake; but I assured them there was not the least necessity for
their doing so. I was anxious, I said, to be on the most intimate and
friendly terms with all of them, and I hoped they would allow the same
friendly relations to continue. From that day forth, Sheikh Muslem Wad
Kabbashi became one of my most faithful friends, and continued to be
so, in times of joy and sorrow, until I left the country.

This little episode had given us all a hearty appetite, and we sat down
to an excellent meal of roast mutton; and that over, we were again in
the saddle, bivouacking for the night under a large tree about two
hours' march from Dara. At sunrise the next morning I sent on a
messenger to announce our approach, and on reaching the outskirts we
were given a great military reception, the garrison was drawn up in line
and a salute of seven guns fired, after which the troops filed off to
their barracks, and, accompanied by Major Hassan Helmi, the commandant,
Zogal Bey, the Sub-Governor, the Kadi, and some of the principal
merchants, we proceeded to the fort in which the Government buildings
are situated. The inspection lasted about half an hour, and I then went
to my own quarters, in which I had ordered rooms to be prepared for Dr.
Zurbuchen, who was to be my guest for a few days.

Dara, which is the capital of Southern Darfur, is built in the midst of
a large plain of partly sand and partly clay soil, the fort itself being
on the top of a low sand-hill,--in fact, on the same spot in which
Zubeir Pasha had entrenched himself when invading the country. It was a
rectangular stone enclosure twelve feet high, about five hundred yards
long and three hundred yards broad, with flanking towers at each corner,
and surrounded by a broad ditch twelve feet deep. The troops were
quartered in huts built along the inside of the enclosure, and in the
centre were the Government buildings, consisting of the Governor's
house, divan, and the various offices and courts of justice, as well as
the arms, grain-store, and prison. Some distance east of the fort was
the old mosque built by Sultan Mohammed el Fadl, which the former
Governor had converted into a powder-magazine, but which Gordon had
restored to the town for its proper purpose. Close to the southern gate
were the houses of Zogal Bey, the Kadi, and the commandant, built mostly
of burnt brick and enclosed by walls.

The town of Dara, consisting chiefly of straw and mud huts, lay a few
hundred yards to the east of the fort, while upwards of half a mile to
the west was situated the village of Goz en Naam, and beyond it again
the hamlet of Khummi.

Inclusive of the garrison, the population of Dara numbered between seven
and eight thousand, most of whom belonged to the local tribes; but there
were also a considerable number of Nile merchants and traders.

It being the month of Ramadan, which is the great fast, a meal of
roasted meat, bread, dates, and lemonade had been prepared for us; but
the officials sent a message to say they regretted they could not join
us. I confess to being only too glad of this respite, for we were
thoroughly tired. Our things unpacked, I now sat down to consider how to
make myself as comfortable as I could.

At sunset, the gun boomed out the signal that one day more of Ramadan
had gone; and now the hungry and thirsty inhabitants, their daily fast
over, hurried to their evening meal. Zogal Bey, Hassan Effendi Rifki,
Kadi el Beshir, and the chief merchant, Mohammed Ali, now came to see
us, and asked us to dine with them; they were followed by a host of
servants bearing roast mutton, fowls, milk, and rice,--which is usually
eaten with hot melted butter and honey,--and dishes of asida (meat
spread over with a thin layer of very fine dukhn flour, over which sauce
is poured, and on the top of all is a thin layer of paste, sprinkled
with sugar); this completed the menu. In a few minutes the ground just
outside the house, which had been sprinkled with fine sand, was spread
with carpets and palm mats, and on these the dishes were laid. Zogal Bey
began distributing the viands amongst those who had come to welcome me,
including the servants, but keeping, of course, the best dishes for the
more select company. We now sat down, and the tearing and rending of the
roast sheep began with a vengeance; of course, knives and forks were out
of the question. Scarcely had we settled down to the feast, when a great
hubbub arose amongst the servants, who were evidently trying to prevent
two men from pushing their way into our circle. I begged Zogal Bey to
inquire what was the matter. Licking his greasy fingers, he got up, and
returned in a few minutes, carrying a document which proved to be a
letter from Ahmed Katong and Gabralla, the two chiefs of an irregular
corps which garrisoned the station of Bir Gowi, some three days' march
southwest of Dara: this was to say they had just received information
that Sultan Harun was going to attack them, and that as they had only a
small force, they proposed to evacuate their station, unless
reinforcements could be sent at once; but they said that if they left
the district, all the villages would be plundered.

There was no time to be lost, so I ordered Hassan Effendi Rifki to
select two hundred regulars and twenty horsemen, to be ready to start
with me at once for Bir Gowi. Zogal and Hassan both urged that it was
unnecessary for me to go, as I wanted rest after the long journey; but I
said that as my principal object in coming to Darfur was to fight Sultan
Harun,--in accordance with Gordon Pasha's orders,--I intended to take
the earliest possible opportunity of doing so. Seeing that I was not to
be stopped, and secretly rejoicing that neither of them had been saddled
with the responsibility of taking command, they now hurried on with the
preparations.

The pony which Gordon had given me was too tired to be taken, so I asked
if any one present could lend or sell me a good horse. Zogal happened to
have just bought a large white Syrian horse, and at once sent for it; he
was a strong, well-made animal, quite suitable for the fatigues of a
campaign, and as he had formerly been owned by an officer, was used to
the noise of firing. Seeing that I liked the look of the horse, Zogal
immediately begged my acceptance of it by way of diafa (hospitality);
but I went to some pains to explain to him that it was not customary in
my country to accept such presents, and that here in the Sudan, he being
my subordinate, I could not think of it. Unfortunately, I had previously
mentioned Gordon's gift of a pony to me, and of course Zogal brought
this up as a parallel case; but I replied that there was no objection to
accepting a present from a high official given entirely by way of
friendship. After considerable discussion, I at length succeeded in
making him accept one hundred and eighty dollars; but he did so under
great protest.

By midnight all was ready, and, bidding Dr. Zurbuchen good-bye, I
started off for the southwest, saying that I hoped to see him again in
four or five days.

I was young, strong, and keen to have some fighting experience, and I
well remember my delight at the thought of a brush with Sultan Harun.
The idea of difficulties and fatigue never crossed my mind; all I longed
for was a chance of showing my men that I could lead them. At sunrise I
halted my little party, which consisted of two hundred Blacks,--the
officers also being Sudanese,--and the horsemen Turks and Egyptians, and
addressed them in a short speech, saying that at present I was an entire
stranger to them, but they should see I was ready to share fatigue and
discomfort with them on all occasions, and that I hoped we should march
rapidly forward with a good heart. Simple as my harangue undoubtedly
was, I saw that it had made an impression, and when I had finished, they
raised their rifles above their heads, in Sudanese fashion, and shouted
that they were ready to conquer or die.

At noon we halted near a village, and I then carefully inspected the
men. They were all well armed, and had a plentiful supply of ammunition;
each man was also provided with a water-bottle made out of goat or
gazelle skin, known as "sen" (pl. siun); but they had brought no rations
with them. On inquiry, I was told, "Wherever you go in Darfur you will
always find something to eat." I therefore made my way to the Sheikh of
the village, and asked him to supply some dukhn. This corn is generally
soaked in water, then pressed, mixed with tamarind fruit, and eaten in
this condition; the bitter-sweet water being an excellent
thirst-quencher. This food Europeans usually find indigestible; but it
is very nourishing, and is eaten almost exclusively by the Sudanese
soldiers when campaigning. I gradually got accustomed to it, taking it
almost invariably when out on such expeditions; but I found that unless
one was feeling very well, it generally brought on most painful
indigestion. The Sheikh now brought us the corn, and also a large dish
of asida, which was divided amongst the men; and whilst they were having
their meal, I asked the officers to share with me a tin of preserved
meat, which they admitted was much superior to the asida and dukhn. I
then called up my clerk, and told him to write out a receipt for the
corn, which he was to give the Sheikh, to be his voucher for the
remission of taxation equivalent to the value of the dukhn supplied. But
the good man, when he understood my orders, refused to accept the
receipt, adding that it was not only his duty to give the corn, but that
the rights of hospitality demanded it. I told him, however, that I was
well aware the natives of Darfur were most generous; but to impose the
feeding of two hundred men on him quite exceeded the bounds of
hospitality, and that it was only just he should receive payment. He at
length agreed, and this conversation appeared to give him confidence;
for he admitted that if this principle were always carried out, the
natives would greatly appreciate it; but, unfortunately, it was the
usual custom for troops arriving at a village to enter the houses, and
take anything and everything they wanted, with the result that the
inhabitants dreaded their approach, and at once tried to hide all they
had. I thanked the Sheikh for telling me this, and promised I would do
all I could to rectify the evil. We moved on again at three o'clock,
loaded with the blessings of this good man and his people, and after a
quick march of four hours halted in a small plantation of trees. Our
route had led us across a country overgrown with dense bush, and
intersected by innumerable dry gullies; and here and there we passed a
village buried amongst the trees. From our halting-place I sent off two
horsemen to Bir Gowi to announce our approach; and, after a refreshing
rest of five hours under the wild fig-trees and tamarisks, we started
off again, and marched almost uninterruptedly till noon the following
day. We once or twice had to ask for corn, and always had the same
difficulty in getting the Sheikhs to accept the receipt; but as I
insisted, they generally ended by gladly taking it. I was anxious, if
possible, to reach Bir Gowi before dark, so pushed on; we passed on the
way a large plantation of deleb palms, and had to be careful not to be
struck by the heavy fruit, which, weighing from two to three pounds, and
falling from a height of some forty feet, was a positive danger. Woe to
the unfortunate traveller who thoughtlessly halts for the night in one
of these palm-groves! The natives, however, are very careful, and
generally warn the unsuspecting of the risk of sleeping anywhere near
these trees when bearing fruit.

At sunset we reached Bir Gowi, which was situated in the centre of a
large clearing; and to reach the station we had to pass between the
stumps of trees, which considerably impeded the march. It was surrounded
by a square zariba, each side of which measured about one hundred and
eighty paces, and consisted of a thorn barricade about twelve feet thick
and six feet high; on the inside, the ground was raised to enable the
men to fire over it from a platform, and the whole was surrounded by a
ditch nine feet wide, and about nine feet deep.

The garrison, consisting of some hundred and twenty men armed with
rifles, was drawn up outside, with their officers, ready to salute. I
halted the men, and, riding forward, saluted the garrison, and was
welcomed by the vigorous beating of the nahas (copper war-drums) and
noggaras (other drums, made from the hollow trunk of a tree, covered on
both sides with skin), the blowing of bugles and antelope horns, and the
rattling of dry skins filled with pebbles,--a very effective, but by no
means melodious band, diversified by the occasional crack of rifles
fired off in a promiscuous manner, and which could not exactly be
compared to a _feu de joie_, though no doubt the intention was the same.
After inspecting the garrison, I ordered my men to file into the fort.
The interior of the zariba was filled with straw huts, those of the
chiefs being surrounded by high straw enclosures; but there was
sufficient room for us all, and I was given a good-sized hut, standing
in almost the only open place visible.

The object of the Bir Gowi military post was to protect the surrounding
villages from raids; but the strength of the garrison to take the
offensive was insufficient, and it would probably have been of little
use. Dismounting from my horse, I sat on an angareb, and sent for Ahmed
Katong and Gabralla to discuss the situation, and obtain the latest news
about Harun's movements. Katong soon arrived, hobbling along on a
crutch. He belonged to the Fung tribe, his forefathers having been
captured by the Furs, after the conquest of Kordofan, and he had been
made Hakem Khot, or chief of the district; his duty being to collect
taxes, and at the same time to be responsible for the security of the
country. In reply to my question as to how he had become lame, he told
me that some years before he had been struck in the knee by a bullet.
"Since that date," said Ahmed, "I always have a saddled horse near me.
In the zariba, of course, it does not matter; but when travelling in
these unsettled times, and when one is liable to be attacked at any
moment, I lie down to sleep holding the bridle in my hand. Those with
good legs can easily get away in case of danger; but with a stump like
mine I cannot run, so I have taught myself to mount my horse quickly,
with one leg."

I now begged them to give me the latest news about Harun. "Gabralla,"
said Ahmed, "sent out spies, who returned this afternoon, and who state
that Harun has collected his men, but has not yet come down from the
mountains;" and Gabralla, chiming in, said, "Yes, I did so, and have
sent off others to watch his movements; if he comes here I don't think
we shall run away now."

I could not help scanning this man with some curiosity. He was tall, and
of the usual black complexion of the Fur tribe; he possessed also--which
is very unusual--a well-shaped aquiline nose and a small mouth; he had
a slight beard, was about forty years of age, and had a very pleasant
expression. Yet this was the villain who had betrayed the father of his
own beautiful wife! Was I to trust him, or not? He had certainly every
inducement to be loyal, for should he fall into the hands of Harun, he
would doubtless pay with his life for the death of his uncle and his
father-in-law.

Naturally I gave him no occasion to discover my thoughts, and we chatted
about former times, agreeing they were very different from the present;
he then began to talk of himself, and told me how he was employed as a
spy to bring the news of Harun's movements to Dara, and thence to El
Fasher. He had between thirty and forty of his old slaves, who were
armed, and whose duty it was to guard and serve him, whilst the older
male servants and female slaves had to work in the fields and keep the
household supplied with corn. Being in the pay of the Government, he was
quite content, but told me that he wanted to do something which would
qualify him for the rank of Bey. "Zogal, who is a friend of mine," he
said, "is a Bey."

By this time I was so thoroughly tired and sleepy after my long journey,
followed by the two days' hard marching, that I went to bed; but my head
ached, and the incessant beating of drums in my honour kept me awake all
night, and the following morning I felt really unwell. Ahmed Katong came
to see me, and I told him I had a bad headache. "We can easily cure
that," said Ahmed, cheerfully. "I have a man here who can stop headaches
at once; he is a much better man than the doctor at Dara,--indeed there
is no doctor at Dara; he is really only an apothecary, with the courtesy
title of doctor."

"All right," said I, "but how is he going to cure me?" "Oh! it is very
simple," he answered; "he places both his hands on your head, and
repeats something; then you get perfectly well,--in fact, better than
you were before." "Then let him come at once," I cried. I was young and
ignorant in those days, and I thought that possibly one of these
wandering Arabs might have visited Europe and learned something of the
magnetic cure, and had given up the pleasures of life in order to make
himself useful to mankind. I confess to feeling a little mistrustful
when I thought of what Ahmed had said; but then, after all, doctors in
Europe speak, so why should not he? In a few minutes Ahmed ushered into
my presence a tall dark man with a white beard, who appeared to be a
native of Bornu, and introduced him as "the doctor who will cure your
headache." Without a moment's hesitation, the doctor placed his hand on
my head, pressed my temples with his thumb and forefinger, and,
muttering a few words I could not understand, to my horror, spat in my
face. In a moment I had jumped up and knocked him down; but Ahmed, who
was standing by, leaning on his crutch, begged me not to take it in this
way. "It was not really meant for rudeness," he said; "it is merely a
part of the cure, and will do you much good." But the poor doctor, whose
confidence had been somewhat shaken, and was still standing at a
distance, muttered, "Headache is the work of the devil, and I must drive
it out; several passages from the Kuran and the sayings of holy men
direct that it should be chased away by spitting, and thus his evil work
in your head will cease!" In spite of my annoyance, I could not help
laughing. "So I am supposed to be possessed of a devil," I said; "I
trust he was only a little one, and that you have really driven him
out." I did not, however, let him make a second experiment, and, giving
him a dollar as compensation, I bade him good-bye, and he left me,
calling down the blessings of Heaven on my poor head, which was still
aching sadly.

All day we awaited news of Sultan Harun's movements, and as there was
nothing to be done I kept to my bed. I was just dozing off, when my
servant announced that Katong and Gabralla wished to see me. They were
admitted, for I thought that no doubt they brought news of Harun; but it
was only to say that it was the custom of the country, and one of the
claims of hospitality, that, having only one horse, I should accept from
each of them a fine country bred animal as a mark of their loyalty and
respect. I replied to them much in the same terms as I had answered
Zogal, adding that I had no doubt we should remain equally good friends
without giving and taking presents, provided they continued to carry out
their duties faithfully.

Although they appeared greatly distressed at my refusal to accept the
horses, I have no doubt they went home rejoicing secretly that I had
refused their gifts. However, before many minutes had passed, Gabralla
came back and asked to say just a few words. He had been much pained, he
said, by my refusal to take the horse, and now, as I was quite alone and
very unwell, he took the liberty of offering me one of his
maid-servants. "She is young and pretty," he said, "and has been well
brought up in my house; she knows how to prepare native food, is good at
housework, and is above all a good and careful nurse, and thoroughly
understands all the ailments of the country." Again I was obliged to
refuse this proffered kindness; so poor Gabralla went away somewhat
downcast with his failure. But having already had a rather painful
experience at the hands of the doctor, I was not particularly anxious to
intrust myself to the tender mercies of even a dusky maiden, however
proficient a nurse she might be.

The next morning I arose feeling quite myself again; and when I met
Ahmed and told him that I had recovered, he at once answered, "Of
course, I knew you would get quite well; Isa (the name of my doctor) has
never yet put his hands on any one and failed to cure him."

Another day passed, and still no news of Harun. Accompanied by Katong
and Gabralla, I visited the market, which was about a hundred yards
outside the zariba, and was held specially for the benefit of the
surrounding villagers, who purchased here all they required. Sometimes
the Beni Helba Arabs, who reside in this part of the country, are seen
here. Women sitting on the ground expose palm mats for sale, as well as
giraffe, antelope, and cow meat; salt is also an important commodity,
besides a great variety of native vegetables which are used as
ingredients in making sauces for the asida dish. Men are to be seen
selling takaki, or native woven linen and cotton cloth, thread, natron,
and sulphur, which the Arabs buy freely to grind, and mix with the
grease with which they rub their heads. The women are usually the
marissa vendors; and here and there a young female slave is exposed for
sale. I thought I must buy something, so invested in a few palm mats.

On the following day, about noon, one of Gabralla's messengers returned
with the news that Sultan Harun had collected his men, but still had not
moved down from his summer resort in the hills. On the fourth day after
our arrival at Bir Gowi, a second messenger came in and stated that when
Sultan Harun heard from the natives that I had left Dara for Bir Gowi
with the intention of fighting him, he had at once disbanded his men,
who had dispersed over Jebel Marra.

Thoroughly disappointed with my first failure, I returned crestfallen to
Dara, but before doing so visited the sulphur spring from which the
station of Bir Gowi (or the strong well) is named. The warm water spouts
up from the centre of a sandy depression, and is cooled by two small
streams artificially led into it. Natives affected with rheumatism or
diseases of the blood bathe in this spring, and are said to derive great
benefit from its strengthening properties.

Nine days after leaving Dara I was back there again, and by that time
Dr. Zurbuchen had gone, leaving behind him a letter in which he wished
me all success. I also found that during my absence my unfortunate Arab
clerk who had accompanied me when I was Financial Inspector, and had
come with me to Dara, had become crazy: they had put him into a house
next my own, and when I went to see him, he sprang forward to embrace
me, crying out, "Thank God! Sultan Harun has done no harm to you; but
Zogal Bey is a traitor, beware of him. I have ordered the fires in the
engine to be lighted, in order that the train may take you to Europe,
where you will be able to see your relations again. I shall come with
you; but we must be careful about Zogal, he is a scoundrel!" Evidently
the poor man's mind was quite unhinged; nevertheless, crazy people
sometimes speak the truth. I quieted the poor old man, and induced him
to lie down till he heard the engine's whistle warning us to be off;
and, commending him to the care of the servants, I went away. Five days
later, the whistle had sounded, and the poor man had been carried off to
his long home,--his death was, I suppose, due to a rush of blood to the
brain.

I now busied myself with the administrative affairs of the province of
Dara, which, exclusive of the districts of Kalaka and Shakka, comprised
five divisions, or kisms, viz., Toweisha, Kershu, Giga, Sirga, and
Arebu, each of which was supposed to pay taxes at a fixed rate; but I
found that the officials conducted affairs just as they pleased. It was
thought impossible to take regular taxes from Arabs who had no settled
places of abode, and whose wealth in cattle was continually increasing;
a system had, therefore, been arrived at by which each tribe was
assessed at a fixed sum, for the payment of which the head-Sheikh was
made responsible, and he, in turn, assessed the various sub-tribes by a
mutual arrangement with which the Government did not interfere. I now
ordered each district to forward lists to me showing the name and number
of the villages and the names of the landowners and traders in every
village. When these came in, it would be an easy matter to lay down
definitely the rates to be paid by every individual. It was also my
intention to make an inspection of every district, in order to see for
myself the quality of soil, and assess the value locally; and at the
same time my inspections would enable me to see for myself the strength
of the Arab tribes, and thus acquire some real data for laying down the
tribute which they should pay.

About a month after my return from Bir Gowi, I received a letter in
French from Messedaglia, telling me that he had determined to put an end
to the Harun trouble; and for this purpose he ordered me to move
secretly _via_ Manawashi and Kobbé, with a division of regular troops,
towards Jebel Marra, and attack Niurnia, the Sultan's residence. At the
same time, he wrote, he was despatching troops from El Fasher, _via_
Tura, and from Kulkul, _via_ Abu Haraz, to rendezvous at a certain spot
and co-operate in the attack.

In compliance with this order, I left Dara with two hundred and twenty
regulars and sixty Bazingers; but as the horses were unshod, and not
used to hill work, I took only six of them. It was then the month of
February, and extremely cold. We marched _via_ Manawashi, where I
visited the tomb of the last Sultan of the Fur dynasty, and on the
following day we bivouacked near Kobbé, close to the defile which leads
to Jebel Marra. Being now fairly near the enemy, I increased the
outposts; but we passed the night without being disturbed. Early the
next morning we began our march through the defile, carefully protecting
the flanks by sending parties up the hills on both sides. In an hour and
a half we had traversed the valley and reached the village of Abdel
Gelil, who was one of Harun's chiefs. He had quitted the village only
the day before; and, dividing amongst the men the corn we found, we
continued our march over most rugged country, alternate steep hills and
deep valleys, and here and there a stony plain. My men, being unused to
climbing of this description, got very tired. The country was completely
forsaken; not a human being was to be seen. Occasionally, close to the
track, we came across small deserted huts with stone walls and thatched
roofs; and now and then were to be seen little patches of ground, either
at the bottom of the valleys or on the slopes of the hills, planted with
various sorts of wheat; and there were wild fig-trees in abundance.

That night we bivouacked on a small plateau; but, fearing to expose our
position, we did not dare to light fires, though we could have procured
plenty of wood from the huts. In spite of our warm clothing, the cold
was bitter; but it was better to bear that than make ourselves a target
for the enemy, who, armed with Remington rifles, were in all probability
prowling about on the heights. At sunrise we marched on again, and
halted in the afternoon on an open plain called by the natives Dem es
Sakat (the cold camp); so named because Zubeir Pasha, in his Darfur
campaign, had stayed here and had lost many men from the cold. The next
day, although I had ordered a large fire to be lit, several of the men
were reported to me as being unable to move, owing to the cold; but we
mounted them on the donkeys and mules, and so brought them along with
us. At noon we reached the highest point of Jebel Marra, and had a
magnificent view over the whole country; and far in the distance could
be seen Niurnia, the objective of our expedition. This ancient capital
of the Fur Sultans lay far down the valley, where it began to open out
into the plain, and was almost buried in a mass of wild fig-trees. With
my glasses I could just descry people apparently hurriedly quitting the
village and leading their horses. We pushed on, but it took us four
hours to climb down the mountain side; and it was not till sunset that,
preceded by a line of skirmishers, we entered the town to find it
completely evacuated.

Sultan Harun's mosque lay to the west of the town, and was enclosed by a
stone wall four and a half feet high and a hundred yards square. The
mosque itself was in the centre of the enclosure, and was a stone
building about forty feet square, with a straw-thatch roof. Some three
hundred yards from the mosque lay the houses of the Sultan, built of mud
and stone; and one of them was furnished with a second story. They were
all surrounded by straw fences, and near them were the huts of the
personal retainers and armed men. The open space between the mosque and
house was divided by a silvery stream of beautifully clear water. The
mosque being empty, I turned my men into it, as I thought it the safest
place to be in in case of attack.

The same evening a mountaineer was caught creeping into the village; and
on assuring him that I meant him no harm, he told me, through an
interpreter (he did not speak Arabic), that Sultan Harun, with all his
men, had left Niurnia that morning, and had gone west in the direction
of Abu Haraz, but that he had sent all the young slaves and those not
strong enough to march, to a safe place in the mountains, about an
hour's distance from the town. As I had to wait for the troops from
Kebkebia and Kulkul, which should have already arrived, it was
impossible for me to pursue Harun. I therefore proposed to the spy,
under promise of a good reward, that he should lead me to the
hiding-place in the hills. Accordingly, we started the next morning at
an early hour, with one hundred men and a couple of horses, and had not
been out more than half an hour when, from the direction from which we
had just come, I heard some shots, and then a series of volleys. Was it
possible Sultan Harun had suddenly returned and was attacking my men? I
instantly turned back, and, galloping on in front, reached an open
space, in which I saw soldiers firing at each other. My trumpeter, whom
I had mounted behind me, now jumped down, and I shouted to him to sound
the "Cease fire;" but for a few minutes I could not get them to take any
notice. Still riding on, I came within range, and a bullet passed
through the cloak I had thrown over my shoulders to keep out the cold,
and my horse was slightly struck in the hind leg. At last I managed to
stop the firing, and summoned the officers to find out what had
occurred. It now transpired that the troops advancing from El Fasher
under Kasem Effendi and his assistant, Mohammed Bey Khalil, had been
informed that Sultan Harun was in Niurnia. They had marched all night,
and, concealing themselves behind the huts, had crept in unawares close
to the big fire round which my men were sleeping, and had suddenly fired
on them. The latter, alarmed, had jumped up and begun firing, believing
that they were attacked by Harun's men. My chief officer, Hassan Rifki
(who was one of those who had been present at the death of Suleiman
Zubeir), had done his utmost to check the firing by repeated
bugle-signals; but the Fasher troops, who had been told that Sultan
Harun also had buglers who wore the fez, could not be induced to stop.
Curiously enough, during the late revolt several of the soldiers had
deserted and joined Sultan Harun. It was only when I appeared on the
scene that the contending parties realised what had happened. Both sides
had suffered: three of my men had been killed and four wounded, while
the Fasher troops had lost four killed and seven wounded. I had a small
field dispensary, and dressed the wounds as best I could; and then
ordered a statement of what had occurred to be taken down and sent to
the authority concerned.

The horse which I had bought from Zogal, and which I had left at the
mosque, was struck in the neck by a bullet, which had slightly
penetrated, and he almost died from loss of blood; but fortunately the
ball had not lodged in a vital part, and after some days he recovered.

We remained ten days at Niurnia, and still the troops coming from Kulkul
had not arrived; while communication by letter-carriers between us and
Dara and Fasher was interrupted by the mountaineers, who would not allow
the messengers through.

During this waiting time I made a small expedition to the village of
Abderrahman Kusa, one of Harun's principal men. But it was deserted,
though I knew that the villagers were concealing themselves amongst the
rocks and were watching our movements; they had always early
information, and were able to make off in good time. During this march
we came across some trees to which curious clay vessels had been
attached, and which I learnt were beehives. On the advice of Sheikh
Taher we did not go near the trees, as he said the bees would probably
attack us, but halted some two miles away. That evening Sheikh Taher,
taking some wood and straw, smoked out one of the hives and brought us a
quantity of excellent honey; but his servants, who accompanied him,
carried in a dying Bazinger on a stretcher. He was one of my men; and
when he saw the hives, he had fallen out of the ranks, and, tying some
cloth round his hands and face, had attempted to procure some honey. The
bees had attacked him, and he had fallen off the tree unconscious, where
he lay until picked up by the others; and I do not think I ever saw a
more terrible sight. His face was swollen beyond all recognition, and
his tongue protruded to an enormous size from his widely distended
mouth. The poor man never regained consciousness, and died in an hour or
two.

We had to start off before sunrise the next morning, as the Sheikh told
us that when the sun was up the bees would probably attack us.

On our return to Niurnia I gave orders to start back the following day,
marching _via_ Dar Omongawi, Murtal, and Murtafal. On our way we passed
through several villages and took the people entirely by surprise, for
they had not expected us from the west. Most of the men had been
collected by Sultan Harun, and those who could escape to the hills did
so; but my men captured about thirty women, whom we took along with us
for a short distance. In one village the people were so completely
surprised that few of them had time to fly; and, seeing that they were
only women, I sounded the halt, in order to give them a chance of
getting away. I then formed up the men on the road, so as to prevent
them scattering through the village, and in this formation we marched
on. One poor woman, I noticed, in her hurry to escape, had left her two
children on a rock, while she herself fled like a gazelle up the
mountain side. Going to the rock, I found two pretty little babies,
quite naked, but with strings of coral round their waists and necks.
They were as black as ravens, and probably twins about eighteen months
old. Dismounting, I went up to them, and they began to cry and cling to
each other; so, taking them in my arms, I told my servant to bring me
some sugar from my travelling-bag. This pacified them at once; and,
smiling through their tears, they munched what to them was probably the
nicest thing they had ever tasted in their little lives. Then, taking
two of the red handkerchiefs (a supply of which I generally carried
about to offer as presents), I wrapped the babies up in them, laid them
down on the rock again, and moved on some distance. Looking back, I saw
a human being, evidently the mother, creeping down the rocks. Then,
joyfully seizing her little ones, whom she thought perhaps she had lost
for ever, she fondled them most lovingly. She had got back her naked
treasures clothed in lovely garments, and licking their little black
lips all sticky with their feast of sugar.

After a three days' march we reached Murtafal; and from here I sent the
Fasher troops back to their station, whilst we continued on to Dara. But
before leaving, I had all the women whom we had picked up on the march
to carry corn, collected together, and then set them free. I told them
that next time I hoped their husbands would be more submissive, and in
that case wives, husbands, and children need never be separated. A
shriek of joy, a mutter of gratitude, and they were off like gazelles
released from a cage.

I had now been away from Dara about three weeks, and had heard no news
whatever. At the noon halt, the following day, my men brought before me
some of the Beni Mansur tribe, who told me that Sultan Harun had
attacked Dara, and, on being repulsed, had turned to Manawashi, which
was about a day's march from where we were. They told me he had looted
the place, and also burnt the village of Tanera, which belonged to
Sheikh Maki el Mansuri, and was about six hours' march from us. This
Sheikh, whom I knew well, had lost everything, they said, and had barely
escaped with his life.

Telling my informants to lose no time in bringing Sheikh Mansuri to me,
I marched on at once towards Manawashi, and by the evening we had made
good progress. I now ordered the halt for the night, and soon afterwards
the Sheikh arrived, in a very destitute condition. He had lost all his
property, and had nothing left but the clothes in which he stood; and
they were torn to shreds by thorns during his flight. Seating himself,
he briefly related what had occurred. Sultan Harun, it appeared, on
quitting Niurnia, had collected a considerable force, and had descended
to the plains in the direction of Abu Haraz. Here he had a collision
with the Kulkul troops, who had suffered slight loss, and had retired on
Kebkebia; and that was the reason they had failed to come up to the
rendezvous at Niurnia. Harun had advanced immediately on Dara, and the
news of his approach had only reached the garrison two hours before he
had made his night attack on the town, in which many of the inhabitants,
including Khater, a brother of Vizir Ahmed Shata, had been killed, and
several women captured. Eventually driven out, he had retired to
Manawashi, which he had partially destroyed; and detaching some of his
men to Tanera, they had burnt the village and taken almost all the
women. The unfortunate Sheikh Maki had been wounded in the leg, and had
only escaped death by a miracle. It appeared that Harun was now in a
position about four hours' march from me in a westerly direction, and
was being followed up by Ahmed Katong and Gabralla, who, when Harun had
passed through the Beni Helba country, had not been sufficiently strong
to attack him, but were now doing their best to keep in touch with him,
and send news of his movements to Dara and Fasher.

I at once despatched messengers with instructions to them to join me
during the night, and to send spies to ascertain exactly where Harun was
encamped. At dawn the following morning, Katong and Gabralla arrived,
with about a hundred Bazingers. They reported that Harun had struck his
camp, and was marching west with his entire force. A woman they brought
with them, and who belonged to Sheikh Maki's village, also stated that
Harun had collected all the women he had captured at Dara and Manawashi,
and had addressed them as follows: "I was not told that the unbeliever
Slatin had liberated the women he had captured; but as I am a believer
and the Sultan, it is not fitting that I should keep you captive; you
are therefore free; but my blood relatives I will keep with me, for I am
the head of the family, and, therefore, their master."

The woman also stated that amongst those Harun had captured at Dara were
some of the princesses of the royal house of Darfur, as well as Sheikh
Maki's wife, who belonged to the late Sultan's family. This sad news
greatly distressed poor Sheikh Maki, whose cup of sorrow was indeed full
to overflowing.

I now made preparations to march off at once in pursuit of Harun; but my
little expedition into Jebel Marra had considerably reduced my numbers.
The cold had been fatal to many of the Blacks, and I remarked that those
who were accustomed to eat meat and drink marissa stood the cold and
hardships well; whilst those whose duties lay chiefly in tax-gathering
amongst the nomad Arabs, and who consequently existed principally on
milk, succumbed in large numbers.

Including Katong's and Gabralla's reinforcements, my little detachment
consisted only of a hundred and seventy-five regulars and a hundred and
forty Bazingers. The horses had all been lamed by the rough ground,
except the gray which I rode. I had sent messengers to Dara to say that
I was on my way back, and had arrived near Manawashi, where I wished the
chiefs of the Beni Helba and Messeria Arabs to meet me, with their men;
and starting off at a rapid pace, after a few hours' march, we reached
the camp Sultan Harun had just quitted. It was completely deserted, and
we made out from the tracks that the force had moved off at least nine
or ten hours before; and, following them up, we found ourselves marching
in a northwesterly direction towards El Fasher. From the tracks, we
gathered that Harun's force numbered about four hundred rifles, some
hundreds of sword and spear men, and about sixty horsemen. With so few,
it would be impossible for him to attack Fasher. What, therefore, could
be his intentions?

By sunset the troops were thoroughly exhausted, and darkness forced us
to halt. Besides, there was no moon, and we could no longer make out the
tracks. At the first streak of dawn, however, we continued our advance,
and, to encourage the men, I walked the whole way. They had suffered
considerably in Jebel Marra, and were thoroughly tired out; and had
there been time, I would have relieved them by fresh troops from Dara.
But there was not a moment to be lost; so we pushed on as best we could,
making short halts every now and then. We had had no time to take in
provisions, and, indeed, most of the corn in the villages had already
been seized by Harun. My men were, therefore, getting famished; and when
we reached Jebel Abu Haraz (about two days' march from El Fasher), I
promised them that if we did not come up with the enemy on the following
day, steps would then be taken to procure provisions at any cost. At
sunrise the next morning we reached the Abu Haraz wells, which we found
deserted. We had had no water since the previous day; so we were obliged
to halt for a short time, and we found a woman who had concealed
herself, thinking we were the enemy. She reported that, the previous
day, Harun had attacked Hillet Omar, the village of the Sultan of the
Massabat (about four hours' march further on), which he had plundered,
and killed a number of the inhabitants; but that she and other survivors
had hidden in the forest, and so had escaped detection. Harun, she said,
had moved on that morning, and could not be far off. She therefore
offered to lead us along his tracks, which we had been obliged to leave
the previous evening, owing to want of water. The news that before long
we should come up with the enemy was hailed with delight, and, with the
woman as our guide, we hurried forward, and were soon on their quite
fresh tracks. Inspired with the prospect of a successful action, a
speedy return to their wives and families, and a long rest, my men now
moved on very cheerfully and at a good pace.

Our direction lay nearly due east, and about an hour before noon we
came in sight of two small hills. Just then, some of Katong's and
Gabralla's men, who were scouting out in front, brought in a wounded
man, who stated that he had been taken prisoner at Hillet Omar, and had
just escaped, having seen our red flag a long way off and knowing that
he would be safe. Sultan Harun, he said, was halted a short distance
beyond the small hills at Rahad en Nabak. We now increased the pace,
and, galloping forward, I could see from the hills the position of the
enemy. They were encamped on a grassy slope about two thousand five
hundred yards away, and through my glass I could see the horses being
saddled up, and much commotion, as if the camp were about to move on.

There was not a moment to be lost. Taking, therefore, a hundred and
thirty regulars with me, I pushed straight on, my left flank being
covered, at a distance of about half a mile, by forty-five regulars and
forty Bazingers under Wad el Abbas, while Katong and Gabralla were
ordered to remain as a reserve, concealed behind the rising ground.

The enemy had now discovered us. I therefore advanced at the double
between the two hills, Wad el Abbas circling round the hill on the left;
and once through, we deployed for attack. Half a mile further on, we
came under a heavy rifle-fire; and my gray horse, which had only just
recovered from his wound, got restive, and neither spurs nor whip were
of any avail to make him move on. I therefore jumped off, and we
continued advancing till within six hundred yards of Harun's line, when
we halted and fired a volley. Then, ordering Wad el Abbas to double
forward and wheel up to the right, we caught the enemy between a cross
fire, under which they were soon forced to retire. I now lost no time in
sending orders to the reserve to make a flank attack on the retreating
enemy, which had the effect of turning Harun's retirement into a
headlong flight, in which the Sultan's horse was shot dead under him,
and he himself only just eluded us.

If we had had cavalry, none could have escaped. As it was, our men
pursued till nightfall, and inflicted great loss on the enemy. We halted
that night at the Abu Haraz well, and collected our spoil, which
consisted of a hundred and sixty rifles, four large copper war-drums,
four flags, and two horses, the riders of which had both been killed.
Our losses consisted of fourteen killed and twenty wounded. The women
captured by Harun were all saved, and returned to their husbands.

Amongst our wounded was Babakr, the chief of Katong's Bazingers, who had
personally attacked Harun, and was on the point of taking him prisoner,
when he was shot by one of the Sultan's guard. Some of the prisoners
informed me that it had been Harun's intention to ally himself with the
Mima Arabs, who had agreed to revolt against the Government as soon as
he could come to them; but he was now, after this defeat, forced to
retire once more to Jebel Marra, whilst I and my exhausted troops
marched back to Dara. On our way, we came across some four hundred Beni
Helba and Messeria horsemen, who had come to join us, but were
unfortunately too late for the fight.

At Dara, I found everything in the greatest confusion. When the enemy
had attacked, the principal merchants, terrified of their lives, had
fled to the fort, leaving their property at the mercy of Harun's men.
The fort was still crowded with these people, who did not dare to return
to their houses until the result of the fight between Harun and myself
was known. My appearance on the scene was, therefore, the signal for
general rejoicing, and the refugees now all returned to their own homes.

Meanwhile, Sultan Harun, who had recovered his defeat, again collected a
force, and proceeded to Dar Gimmer, in the Kulkul district; and here he
made a raid on the Arabs, captured their cattle and camels, and killed
some merchants. On the news reaching Nur Bey Angara, the Governor of the
district, he advanced rapidly, covering the usual two days' march in
twenty-six hours, and, early the following morning, he surprised Sultan
Harun in his camp. In great haste, Harun's horse was saddled, but in
mounting the stirrup-leather broke. Another horse was brought, and just
as he was about to put his foot into the stirrup, a bullet hit him full
in the chest, and he fell dead (March, 1880). His fall was the signal
for a wild flight, and Nur Angara took possession of his camp without
any further difficulty. Sultan Harun's head was cut off and sent to El
Fasher, and there was general rejoicing at his death. The few adherents,
however, who had fled, now collected in Jebel Marra, and selected as
their ruler Abdullahi Dudbenga, the son of Harun's uncle Abakir; but
henceforth their raids became insignificant, and peace was once more
restored to the country.

Three days after my return to Dara, I received a letter from Gessi
Pasha, in Bahr el Ghazal, informing me that Dr. R. W. Felkin and the
Rev. C. T. Wilson, of the English Church Missionary Society, were on
their way from Uganda to Khartum, _via_ Dara, and with them were some
Waganda envoys sent by King Mtesa to Her Majesty the Queen of England.
Gessi begged me to give them all help on their journey, and said that
they were leaving for Dara on the date he was writing. I calculated,
therefore, they would arrive in a few days, so I despatched mounted
messengers to the Mamur and Sheikh of Kalaka, directing him to have the
necessary food and provisions ready for them on their arrival, and to
send them, with a strong escort, to Dara. It was not until fourteen days
after the receipt of Gessi's letter that news reached me they had passed
Kalaka, and were not far from Dara. At the head of about forty horsemen
I started off to welcome them, and met them, after a ride of two hours,
in a small wood. Our meeting took place under a large tree, and the two
travellers seemed to me to be very tired after their long journey. I had
brought some breakfast with me, and, laying our rugs on the ground, we
sat down and had a good meal. They had heard in the southern Kalaka
district that I had gone off to fight Sultan Harun; and as the roads
were considered unsafe, they had not ventured to come on, and that was
the cause of the delay. Dr. Felkin, who had studied in Jena, spoke
German well; but I had great difficulty in making myself intelligible in
my broken English to the Rev. Mr. Wilson. After breakfast we rode on to
Dara, where the garrison had turned out to welcome them. I then led them
to the house prepared for their reception, where Zogal, the commandant,
the Kadi and chief merchant, came to pay their respects; and after the
usual lemonade and talk, I told them that my guests were greatly in need
of rest, on which they withdrew.

Having ascertained, through an interpreter, that Mtesa's envoys were
fond of meat, I gave them a fattened ox, which they killed themselves,
skinned, and then roasted on a wood fire; and with several draughts of
marissa, to which beverage they had been introduced by an old _habitué_,
they appeared to have had a thoroughly enjoyable feast. Indeed, so much
did they relish this native drink that I was obliged to commission Zogal
Bey to supply them daily with a considerable quantity.

Meanwhile our dinner-party consisted of the two travellers, Zogal and
Rifki, and, as usual, we dined off roasted mutton; after dinner I gave
our two native friends a hint to retire, and then Dr. Felkin and the
Rev. Mr. Wilson began to relate their experiences in Uganda, as well as
amongst the various tribes through which they had passed. I was
immensely interested in all they told me, and could not help wishing I
were at the great lakes instead of in Darfur. Outside, the singing and
beating of drums was getting louder and more boisterous, and from
curiosity we went out to look on. The company was a very cheerful one:
men and women shouting and dancing round a big fire, on which huge
pieces of meat were roasting, whilst close by stood the half-empty
pitchers of beer.

We remained till late talking over our travels and the future of these
countries. All they told me was of immense interest, and I, too, was
able to give them the latest information from Europe, which, though
months old, was news to them. At length, towards midnight we turned in,
having come to the mutual conclusion that in the Sudan, as well as in
Europe, matters seemed very unsettled.

Next morning we were up early, and had a two hours' ride, in which I
showed my guests the surroundings of Dara, which were far from
interesting; and on our return was told, much to my amusement, that the
sight of a camel had caused Mtesa's envoys such alarm that they had
fled. "Well," said I to Dr. Felkin, "as you have to make the rest of
your journey on camel-back, it is advisable your men should get into the
way of it; so if you will get them together I will send for a camel and
put their courage to the test." He went off, and I sent for a camel
belonging to one of the merchants, which was very big and fat. By this
time the envoys and others had arrived and the camel, appearing suddenly
round a corner, caused almost a stampede. It was only the sight of the
unconcern of Dr. Felkin and myself which kept them from bolting as hard
as their legs could carry them. Dr. Felkin explained to them that the
camel was a most patient and docile animal, on which they would have to
make the remainder of their journey to Egypt, and that there was no
cause for fear; still, they kept a respectful distance from the alarming
beast, and when I told my kavass to mount and make it get up and sit
down, their astonishment was boundless. At length one, more courageous
than the rest, volunteered to mount; timorously approaching the animal,
he was assisted into the saddle, and, having safely got through the
operation of rising, with a beaming countenance he surveyed his friends
from his lofty seat, and proceeded to make a speech to them on the
pleasures of camel-riding. Apparently he had invited them to share these
pleasures with him, for suddenly, without a moment's warning, they
rushed at the poor animal in a body, and began swarming up it. Some
tried to mount by the neck, others by the tail, and half a dozen or so
clung to the saddle trappings. For a moment the camel seemed stupefied
by this sudden attack; but, recovering its presence of mind, it now
lashed out in all directions, and in a moment had freed itself
completely from every unfortunate Waganda who had been bold enough to
approach it. I do not think I ever laughed so much in my life. These
people evidently took the poor animal for a mountain; but the shocks
they experienced when the mountain began to heave so terrified them that
for long they would not come near it. However, first one and then
another summoned up courage to mount, and by the time they left Dara
they were all fairly proficient in the art of camel-riding.

I had in my household several young boys who had been taken from the
slave-traders; and as Dr. Felkin had no servant to attend on him
personally, I suggested he should take one of them. He accepted the
offer gladly; so I handed over to him a bright little Fertit boy called
Kapsun, whom he agreed to bring up in Europe. Two years and a half
later, I received at El Fasher a letter written in English by little
Kapsun, thanking me for allowing him to go with Dr. Felkin "to a country
where every one was so good and so kind," and saying that he had adopted
the Christian religion, and was "the happiest boy in the world;" he also
sent me his photograph in European clothes.

The time for the departure of my two friends came all too soon for me;
but they were anxious to get on, and, mounted on their camels, they left
for Khartum _via_ Toweisha.

Some time later I received a letter from Messedaglia telling me that he
was leaving for Khartum to fetch his wife. No sooner had he reached that
place than he got into some difficulty with the authorities and was
discharged, and his place as Governor-General of Darfur was taken by Ali
Bey Sherif, formerly Governor-General of Kordofan.

It was about the close of 1879 or early in 1880 that I received a letter
from General Gordon, written in French some two months previously from
near Debra Tabor, in Abyssinia. Although this letter was destroyed many
years ago, I can remember almost the exact words, which were as
follows:--

    DEAR SLATIN,--Having finished my mission to King John, I wanted
    to return the same way that I came; but when near Gallabat I was
    overtaken by some of Ras Adal's people, who forced me to go back,
    and I am to be taken under escort to Kassala and thence to
    Massawa. I have burnt all the compromising documents. King John
    will be disappointed when he finds he is not master of his own
    house.

    Your friend,
    C. GORDON.




CHAPTER III.

THE GOVERNMENT OF DARFUR.

    Government Administration in Dara--My Difficulties with the
    Gellabas--Manners and Customs of the Arabs--Arrival at
    Shakka--Madibbo Bey Sheikh of the Rizighat--My Visit to
    Khartum--Arrival of Gessi in Khartum--I return West with Bishop
    Comboni and Father Ohrwalder--Am appointed Governor-General of
    Darfur--Hostilities between the Maheria and Bedeyat Arabs--I
    proceed to the Bedeyat Country--Strange Manners and Customs of
    the Bedeyat--Saleh Donkusa and the Heglik Tree--The Ceremony of
    Taking the Oath of Fidelity--Return to El Fasher--Troubles at
    Shakka and Death of Emiliani--I leave for Dara.


I now busied myself with the administrative affairs of the province of
Dara. The returns which I had called for, showing the names and numbers
of villages, their population, etc., were duly submitted to me, and I
now resolved to travel over the entire district and personally inquire
into the state of affairs.

There is very little money in cash in Darfur. The northern Arab tribes
who act as camel-men, and who supply transport for the great caravan
road between Assiut and Darfur, have a small amount of gold and silver
coin; but in all other parts of the province payments are made
principally in "takia," a sort of native-made cotton fabric, or in
European gray cotton cloth, cut in various lengths; but it can be
readily understood that such material, continually passing from hand to
hand, greatly loses in value, and eventually will not even pass for its
cost price.

Taxes were always paid in kind, such as corn, honey, camels, cows,
sheep, and native-made cloth, and a certain fixed tariff being arranged,
it became a simple matter to assess the taxation in Egyptian piastres.
There were always merchants ready to purchase the various products and
animals for which payment was generally made to Government in corn, and
in this latter commodity the salaries were paid to officers, soldiers,
and officials. As the price of corn varied, it happened as often as not
that the cash value of the salaries was in excess; but on the whole I
think the system was not an unfair one.

My first tour of inspection took me to Toweisha and Dar el Khawabir, and
back to Dara _via_ Shieria. I then went to Shakka, _via_ Kershu, and
everywhere I assessed the exact amounts to be paid by all Sheikhs and
chiefs. At Shakka, Kalaka, and in Dar Beni Helba, by personal inspection
and by inquiry, I did all I could to find out what the Arab tribes
really possessed; and at the same time I was anxious to collect the
Bazingers who had formed part of Suleiman Zubeir's army, but who were
now scattered amongst the Rizighat, Habbania, and Taaisha Arabs. I
therefore issued orders to all Sheikhs, both great and small, to hand
over the Bazingers to me; and though it was of course impossible to
collect all, I nevertheless succeeded in getting some four hundred men
capable of bearing arms, and these I at once sent under escort to
Khartum. I was anxious also to increase the number of troops in my own
district; but I hesitated somewhat to introduce into the ranks these
Bazingers, who, accustomed to a life of liberty and freedom, might have
a bad effect on the discipline of the men; and I also knew that if kept
under very strict control they would be likely to desert, and, with
their knowledge of the country and people, might prove an eventual
source of danger.

On my return to Dara I learnt that General Gordon had left Abyssinia,
had resigned his appointment as Governor-General, and had been succeeded
by Rauf Pasha, who was so well known in connection with Sir Samuel
Baker's work in the Sudan.

The Gellabas and merchants whom Gordon had turned out of Kalaka and
Shakka at the time of Suleiman Zubeir's revolt, now seized this
opportunity to proceed to Khartum, and, relying on the ignorance of the
new Governor-General of the real state of affairs, they submitted
petitions to the effect that the Arabs had plundered them of their
wives, children, and property, and that they now sought the protection
of the Government. Rauf Pasha forwarded these petitions to me, with a
covering letter to the effect that I was to deal justly with these
people, restore to them their property, and do what I could to unite
them with their families. Hundreds of Gellabas now came to Dara and
submitted petitions of every description, enumerating, with the grossest
exaggeration, the various articles for which they claimed compensation.
I went to the trouble of having all these claims totalled up in one
list,--ivory, ostrich feathers, gold and silver ornaments, etc., etc.;
and I found that if all the property at present in the hands of the Arab
tribes were confiscated and sold, it would not nearly cover the claims
of the Gellabas.

I was obliged, however, to comply with my orders from Khartum; I
therefore summoned the Sheikhs of the various Arab tribes to Dara, and
informed them of the claims of the merchants against them. Naturally
they at once denied having taken anything whatever from them, and they
told me privately that if Government persisted in the payment of these
claims, there would be no other course open to them than to emigrate to
Wadai and Bornu. Some of them, however, agreed that if permitted they
would endeavour to come to a mutual understanding with the merchants as
regards the restoration of their wives and children; but they absolutely
declined to do this if Government interfered. These latter were about
twenty in number; all the others, who had been turned out by General
Gordon's orders, and who now amounted to some hundreds, I ordered back
to Khartum, as it was quite impossible to come to any sort of
arrangement which would satisfy them and the Arabs.

I reported fully the steps I had taken to Rauf Pasha, and urged him to
pay no further heed to these claims. Soon after this, several of the
Habbania Sheikhs came and informed me that the Gellabas whom I had
ordered back to Khartum had--instead of going there--proceeded to
Kalaka, where they had concluded a private arrangement with Ali Wad
Fadlalla, the official tax-gatherer and a relative of Zogal Bey, to
ignore my orders and, through his assistance, to force the Arabs to
return the property, on condition that they (the Gellabas) and Fadlalla
should share the proceeds between them.

As for various other reasons I wished to again inspect the southern
districts, I took the Sheikhs with me and set off for Kalaka, travelling
_via_ Nimr and Deain, where Madibbo Bey, head-Sheikh of the Rizighat,
resided. Here I promised Madibbo that on my way back I would endeavour
to effect a reconciliation between him and Egeil Wad el Jangawi, with
whom he was in continual dispute. Two days later, accompanied by forty
horsemen, I reached Dawila, which is almost in the centre of the Kalaka
district, and surprised my friend Fadlalla, who was quite ignorant of my
approach. Questioned before the Sheikhs, he could not deny that he had
given orders for some of the property taken from the Gellabas to be
returned to them; without delay I ordered the Arab Sheikhs to bring
before me all Gellabas in the district who had not special permits to
trade, and in a few days one hundred and twenty-four of them were
collected, and I found them to be the actual men whom I had ordered to
Khartum. When I asked them why they had disobeyed orders, they told me
frankly that they had no intention of returning as poor men to their own
country. I then told them to explain how, having no capital whatever,
they proposed to enrich themselves,--especially as I had given orders
that their claims, which were in the majority of cases utterly false,
were not to be considered; and to my repeated questions they refused to
give any answer. I therefore gave instructions to Fadlalla's assistant
to take all the Gellabas as prisoners, under an escort of fifteen
soldiers, to Hassan Agha, the Mamur of Shakka, to whom I gave orders to
send them to El Obeid; and Fadlalla himself I placed under arrest, and
gave instructions that he should be taken with me to Dara, to be tried
for disobedience of orders.

Several of the merchants who were living with the Arabs came and thanked
me for having helped them, saying the Arabs had voluntarily returned to
them their concubines, children, and some of their property, and that
they were living in peace and harmony with the natives of the country. I
now appointed another Mamur in place of Fadlalla, and, according to my
promise, returned to Madibbo, who was expecting me.

As we were riding through the woods in the early morning we passed a
place which smelt very strongly of the civet cat; and in reply to my
question as to whether such animals were to be found there, the Habbania
Sheikh replied, "Yes; but you surely do not want one, it will poison
your whole house." "Poison?" said I, in a tone of feigned surprise, for
I well knew that the Arabs detest the civet cat. "Yes," said he, "the
civet of this cat has such a strong smell that you cannot get rid of
it;" and he held his nose as we passed through the wood. I answered,
"Well, now, in my opinion sulphur has a much more disagreeable smell
than civet." "On the contrary," he replied, "sulphur is one of the
choice perfumes of the country; we are used to it, and we enjoy
it."--"Perhaps you are right," said I; "I have seen how mothers of the
southern tribes mix together sulphur and fat and smear the bodies of
their new-born children, as well as their own breasts, with it. Why
should I wonder that you, who have lain on your mother's lap, drunk her
milk, and gazed lovingly into her eyes, should think the sulphur smell
pleasant? You have been bred and brought up in it, and so it happens
that habit makes us used to everything."

The manners and customs of these wild Arabs always interested me, and
the journey passed quickly enough in chatting with my companions. We
frequently passed settlements of nomad Arabs, who always insisted on our
partaking of their hospitality. The post which caught me up on the way
brought me instructions from the Governor-General that Dar Janghé,
which up till recently had formed part of the province of Dara, was in
future to be attached to Bahr el Ghazal, to which it really belonged.
This new arrangement appeared to me to be a very satisfactory one, as
the Janghé tribe were cattle-owners, and I had already a surplus of
cattle tribute from the numerous Baggara tribes in Darfur, and was not
at all desirous of adding to this stock, which fetched an exceptionally
low price in the market. On the other hand, Gessi was delighted, for the
Janghé were the only cattle-owners in his district, and the payment of
taxes in kind suited his requirements, as it supplied meat for his
troops.

After four days' march we reached Shakka, and halted at the station of
Abu Segan, in which there was a small fort or enclosure surrounding a
few mud-huts and tukuls, which served as quarters for the small garrison
of between thirty and forty men and the Mamur. Surrounding the fort, but
at some distance from it, were the huts of the merchants who had
immigrated from Darfur, and who practically formed the entire
population. It was a well-known market for the district, the principal
days being Friday and Monday, when numbers of Arabs came in to make
their purchases.

I found Madibbo Bey here at the head of several hundred horsemen, and he
informed me that Egeil Wad el Jangawi had gone to Khartum a month ago to
make an official complaint about his discharge from the Sheikhdom. I
therefore pushed on to Dara, and a few days after my return received a
letter from Marcopoli Bey, Rauf Pasha's secretary, to the effect that
Egeil had arrived in Khartum and had lodged a complaint against Madibbo
Bey, whom he characterised as in league with me, and through whose
intrigues he had been deprived of the office of Sheikh, and had even
been threatened with death. The letter went on to say that every effort
had been made to induce Egeil to return to Dara with a letter of
recommendation to me, but he had refused to come, as he was convinced I
was in Madibbo's hands. In order, therefore, to get rid of the man, the
case had been handed over to Ali Bey Sherif, acting Mudir of El Fasher,
who had been instructed to settle it. In reply, I wrote that I had
repeatedly written to Egeil ordering him to come to me, but that he had
persistently refused, and that in consequence I must decline to employ
any man as Sheikh in my district who had objected to coming to see me
when ordered to do so; and I added that as I had been suffering
considerably from fever, and besides had several matters to place before
the Governor-General regarding the administration of the country, I
requested permission to come to Khartum.

A few days later Ali Bey Sherif wrote from El Fasher that, having been
charged to inquire into the Egeil matter, and being unable at present to
come to Dara and examine into the case on the spot, he had in
consequence delegated the Shaigia Sanjak, Omar Wad Darho, to represent
him.

About a month after I had written for leave to go to Khartum, I received
a reply approving, and two days before I started, Omar Wad Darho
arrived, with an escort of one hundred horsemen. It was quite clear to
me that as the country was perfectly tranquil, he had brought these men
simply to plunder. He assured me that it was his intention to act in the
matter under consideration entirely in accordance with my wishes; but I
did not hesitate to tell him that it was his duty to inquire most
carefully into the whole of the facts of the case, and to act justly in
the interests of the Government. At the same time he should not ignore
the interests and wishes of the tribe in selecting as Sheikh a man whom
the tribe would accept, and who would at the same time have sufficient
power to uphold the Government authority. I then appointed Zogal Bey as
my representative, and ordered him not to interfere in the conduct of
the case, and to report the matter fully to Khartum.

I left Dara at the end of January, 1881, and, marching _via_ Toweisha
and Dar Homr, I reached El Obeid in nine days, and proceeded at once to
the Mudiria to pay my respects to Mohammed Pasha Said, the Governor. He
gave me a very kind reception, and asked me to be his guest; but as I
had previously known Ahmed Bey Dafalla, who had a horse ready to take me
to the quarters he had specially prepared for me, I thanked the Governor
and proceeded to Dafalla's house, which was close to the gate. Here I
found everything most comfortable. I was ushered into a large room hung
with richly embroidered curtains, whilst laid out on two tables were all
sorts of pleasant drinks and eatables, cigars, cigarettes, etc.; in
fact, I could see that my host had done everything that was possible to
make my stay pleasant.

Mohammed Pasha Said now came to return my call, and invited us both to
dinner; and after he had gone I had visits from all the notables of the
town. That evening at dinner he told me that he was coming to see me the
following morning on official business. He duly arrived the next day,
and, seeing my three Black boys at the door, his first question was,
"Are these boys free, or slaves?" I at once replied "free," and that
they were in my service of their own free will and accord; they then
showed him their manumission papers, which they kept in little brass
boxes. The Pasha now turned to me and said, "My friend, you are a more
careful man than I. I only wanted to take a rise out of you; but
unfortunately you have turned the tables on me." This little episode
brought us into a discussion on the slave question, and I remarked that
in general terms I agreed with him that from the standpoint of morality
no doubt the abolition of slavery was by all means to be recommended,
but that in actually bringing these measures into effect we should do so
with the greatest circumspection, and should not hurry matters,
otherwise we should deprive the country of its means of obtaining
labour, and we should also place the slave-owners in great difficulties
by any sudden enforcement of the law. Gradual and resolute action was
what was required. Mohammed Pasha Said quite concurred in these views,
pointing out that everything should be done to improve the relations
between the natives and the Egyptians and Turks, by whom they were
governed, but that the sudden abolition of a system which had been a
national custom from remotest times would most certainly lead to
estrangement and difficulties.

I did not make a long stay in El Obeid, and the following morning I
started off on camels, accompanied by two Maalia Sheikhs who had caught
me up on the road from Darfur. I had already telegraphed to Dr.
Zurbuchen to get a room ready for me, and Said Pasha had officially
reported my departure.

On the third day after leaving El Obeid we passed the station of Abu
Garad, where I found a telegram from Zurbuchen begging me to be his
guest; and the following day we crossed the Nile at Tura el Hadra at the
spot where I had said good-bye to Gordon, and whose last words I
remembered had been verified,--"I shall perhaps go to Europe."

The camel I was riding was a young one which Ahmed Dey Dafalla had
bought for me, and they had forgotten to tell me that he should be
ridden with both halter and nose-rein; consequently when we set off in
the dark and I found he would not go on, I drove him, with the result
that he set off at a gallop, and no amount of tugging at the nose-ring
had the smallest effect in stopping him. He ran out of the track
straight for some trees, and in an instant one of the branches, striking
me in the chest, hurled me to the ground some yards away. I fell on my
back with such a thump that it seemed to me as if two pillars of fire
had shot out of my eyes up to the heavens, and for a few minutes I lost
consciousness; but my kavass, who had rushed after me, picked me up,
pulled at my joints, and turned my neck about, and in ten minutes I had
come to and was able to mount the camel, which, when I had fallen, had
patiently stood beside me. We rode till midnight; but the pain in my
chest and spitting of blood obliged me to halt; after a few hours,
however, I was able to move on again, and at length, bruised and sore,
we reached Khartum seven days after leaving El Obeid.

Here I found Zurbuchen, who welcomed me heartily, and carried me off as
his guest to a house near the Roman Catholic Mission, which had belonged
to the late Latif Debono, a Maltese and a well-known slave-dealer.

The Governor-General had sent his kavass to meet me with a message that
I was to call on him during the afternoon; after a short rest,
therefore, I presented myself at the palace, where I was well received
by Rauf Pasha and his secretary, Marcopoli Bey, whom I had known before
as Gordon's interpreter. I soon noticed that Rauf Pasha's cordiality had
somewhat cooled down; and to my utter astonishment he announced that the
leave of absence for which I had asked, in order to proceed to Cairo,
had been granted me, and that Riaz Pasha had just telegraphed to that
effect. "But," said I, "I never wrote to Cairo for leave of absence."
"Then what does this telegram mean?" said he. "I think that you, as a
soldier, should have known better than to have acted in this irregular
manner. You should have applied for your leave through me, and not
direct to Cairo; and now you say you never asked for any!" Marcopoli
then read out the telegram, which ran as follows: "To the
Governor-General of the Sudan: Three months leave on full pay has been
granted to R. Slatin, Mudir of western Darfur."

I was at a complete loss to understand what had occurred, and all I
could do was to repeat that I had not asked for leave. I could see
perfectly well that Rauf Pasha felt insulted at my apparent disregard
for his position, and in this I fully sympathised with him. The next
day, however, light was thrown on the matter. Some time previously I had
written home saying that I had been suffering lately from fever, and my
dear mother, who is now dead, in her loving concern for her absent son,
at once thought that I was concealing from her some terrible malady; she
had, therefore, written to the authorities in Egypt, urging that I
should be recalled to Cairo for medical treatment, and she was thus the
innocent cause of this estrangement between Rauf Pasha and myself. The
matter explained, the Governor-General at once apologised for having
wrongfully accused me of irregularity, and was touched by my dear
mother's love for me, saying that such affection can alone be returned
by the deepest love and obedience on the part of the children. "I
myself," said he, "love my mother with all my heart; though she is only
a poor Abyssinian, and formerly a slave. At all times I am ready to ask
her advice, and follow it in all matters relating to the family and
home." Since this conversation I have often had occasion to notice the
genuine love and affection which exists between parents and children of
this race.

During my stay in Khartum I had frequent talks with Rauf Pasha on the
state of my province, and I suggested that a more just and lenient form
of taxation should be introduced in the Fasher and Kebkebia districts. I
also asked him to allow me to order the Arab tribes to supply annually a
certain number of young slaves, who should form a contingent from which
the vacancies caused by sickness, deaths, and other casualties amongst
the troops could be filled up; and I further proposed that the Arabs
should be allowed to pay their tribute in slaves instead of cattle, as
by this means I hoped to win back Suleiman Zubeir's Bazingers, who were
scattered amongst the tribes, and whose knowledge of the use of
fire-arms was, in my opinion, a continual source of danger to the
Government. Rauf Pasha concurred in all these suggestions, and gave me
written orders to this effect.

When I arrived in Khartum, a certain Darfuri named Hassan Wad Saad en
Nur, whose father had been killed with Vizir Ahmed Shata in Shakka, came
to me, and begged me to intercede for him to be permitted to return to
his country; meeting Rauf Pasha shortly afterwards, I begged him to
allow this, and he gave instructions for his discharge to be at once
made out. A few days later, however, he sent for me and explained that
after further inquiry he had decided to cancel Nur's discharge. I
explained that he had only acted like the rest during the revolt, and
that now it was not possible for him to do any further harm. Rauf
Pasha, however, remained resolute, and I, feeling annoyed, retorted that
as I had given Nur my word that he should return with me, it remained
for Rauf Pasha to decide whether he would let him go or whether he would
discharge me, and, bidding him good-bye, I marched off. Two days later
he again sent for me, and said that I was wrong in having given Nur my
word so quickly. I fully admitted the justice of this censure, and to my
surprise he then said that he had reconsidered the matter, and had
decided to let Nur go; and as regards myself he thought me a stubborn
but capable official, and had in consequence requested His Highness the
Khedive, Mohammed Tewfik Pasha, to appoint me Governor-General of
Darfur, with the title of Bey. I thanked him for his kind words, and
assured him that I should do my utmost to justify his confidence in me.

Rauf Pasha now asked me to state in writing that I would be responsible
for the future good behaviour of Nur; and this I did gladly, feeling
convinced that after all my trouble on his behalf the man would prove
loyal and faithful. On returning to my house I sent for Nur, who had
spent two days of suspense, dreading that his discharge would be
refused; and when I told him the good news, he fell at my feet and
poured out his gratitude in the most voluble terms. I felt that he was a
man of honour, and that I could trust him: little did I know that I had
taken a snake into my bosom.

My short stay in Khartum passed rapidly in the company of my many
friends. Bishop Comboni and Fathers Ohrwalder and Dichtl had arrived
from Cairo towards the end of January, 1881, as well as Hassan Pasha,
the chief of the Financial Department, Busati Bey, Consul Hansal, and
others. Ohrwalder and Dichtl put up in my quarters; and many a long talk
used we to have over our own beloved country.

On 25th January, 1881, Gessi arrived at Khartum very seriously ill.
During his journey from Meshra er Rek he had been hemmed in by the
"Suds," or barriers of floating vegetation through which travellers must
at times cut their way with axes. For three months and more he had
struggled hopelessly to make his way through them, and the terrible
sufferings undergone by him and his men through famine and sickness are
almost indescribable. He lost the majority of his men and crew, and acts
of cannibalism were of daily occurrence. He was at length rescued by
Marno in the steamer "Bordein," and brought to Khartum, where he was
most carefully tended by the Mission sisters; but the shock to his
system had been so great that he could not recover his strength, despite
every effort made by Dr. Zurbuchen. It was at length decided to try and
send him to Egypt, and we made all arrangements to make his journey as
comfortable as possible. He was particularly anxious to take with him
his servant Almas, who happened to be a eunuch; but Rauf Pasha, fearing
that it might create a scandal, and that strictures might be passed on
his government of the Sudan, for a long time refused permission for him
to go. Yielding, however, to the persistence of Zurbuchen and myself, he
at length authorised it, and on 11th March we carried poor Gessi in a
sort of litter to the Governor's dahabia, in which he was towed to
Berber, thence he was carried across to Suakin, where he arrived on 10th
April, and, embarking a fortnight later, reached Suez on 28th, too weak
almost to move. He was taken to the French hospital, where he expired
two days later.

Meanwhile matters in Darfur had not been progressing very
satisfactorily. Zogal Bey wrote that Omar Wad Darho had been conducting
himself very badly at Shakka, and I showed the report to Rauf Pasha, who
telegraphed that he was to return at once to El Fasher.

Having now thoroughly recovered, I decided to return and take up my new
duties as soon as possible. Rauf Pasha placed a steamer at my disposal,
and, accompanied by Bishop Comboni and Father Ohrwalder, whom I promised
to mount on my camels as far as El Obeid, we quitted Khartum on 29th
March. Consul Hansal, Marcopoli Bey, Zurbuchen, and Marquet travelled
with us in the steamer as far as Tura el Hadra, and here we bade them
good-bye. Little did I think that one only of that company should I
ever meet again, and under what strange circumstances I was once more to
return to the capital of the Sudan. I was very young, the heavy
responsibilities of my new and important position occupied all my
thoughts, and I was full of high hopes for the future; but fate had a
strange and terrible destiny in store for me.

After five days' march we reached El Obeid, and from here the Bishop
made a tour through Jebel Nuba, while Father Ohrwalder remained at El
Obeid, and was eventually sent to the mission station of Delen, in
southern Kordofan. I stayed in El Obeid a few days only, and, having
received telegraphic orders to proceed to Foga, I bid my two friends
farewell. One of them--the good Bishop--I was destined never to see
again; he died in Khartum on 10th October, 1881. The other,--my dear
friend Ohrwalder,--like myself, was soon to go through many strange and
horrible experiences before we were again to meet as fellow-captives of
the as yet unknown Mahdi, who was shortly to overthrow every vestige of
Government authority in the Sudan.

Two days later I quitted El Obeid, and, travelling _via_ Abu Haraz and
Shallota, reached Foga, where I found a telegram from His Highness the
Khedive, officially appointing me Governor-General of Darfur, and
directing me to proceed forthwith to El Fasher, to take over the duties
from Ali Bey Sherif. I had some urgent business to do in Dara, and
several private letters to attend to; but I thought it advisable to
proceed at once to El Fasher, where I arrived on 20th April. Here I
found much intriguing going on, from the Mudir down to the lowest clerk
in the office; the Kadi and his employés were all at variance, and even
the clerks of the law-courts had sued each other for contempt. Several
petitions had been filed against officials; there were all sorts of
charges pending against false witnesses; cases regarding breaches of
morality abounded; in fact, it would have required years to settle the
mass of suits and petitions brought before me for decision. A few I
managed to settle, but I regret to say that I had to leave the greater
number pending. The most important case was that against Nur Angara, his
sanjak, and the Kulkul officials, who, with their complainants, had all
been summoned to El Fasher, whence, after freely bribing the officials
with money and slaves, they were sent back to Kulkul without any
decision having been given. There was a large box full of correspondence
on this subject, most of which was not worth the paper it was written
on; I therefore sent instructions to Nur Angara, his officials, and the
complainants, who were all living at Kulkul without work, to come to El
Fasher; and, pending his arrival, I endeavoured to establish some sort
of order in regard to tributes, taxation, etc. Several cases had also
been filed against the late Mudir, Said Bey Guma,--who was at the same
time commander of the troops,--but it was impossible to prove them; and
as it was imperative that I should have an assistant, I reinstated him
as Mudir of El Fasher. There was no doubt he was an intriguer; besides
being excessively parsimonious, he was not liked by the officers, and
was famed for his vocabulary of bad language; but at the same time he
was a brave soldier in the field, and this quality,--especially amongst
Egyptians,--was excessively rare in these distant regions. I therefore
re-employed him, on condition that he would amend his ways; and I
frankly told him that if he gave me the slightest trouble I should
discharge him, and pack him off to Khartum. I knew this would be a
terrible punishment; for, though an Egyptian, he had become greatly
attached to Darfur.

Major Hassan Effendi Rifki, commanding at Dara, I transferred to the
command of a battalion at El Fasher, under Ali Bey Sherif, as he was
constantly drunk; but no sooner had he come under my observation than he
appeared before me twice in a state of intoxication, and I was obliged
to discharge him and send him to Khartum. Meanwhile, Nur Angara and the
host of defendants and complainants duly arrived, and I very soon found
out that the latter had been for the most part his friends, through
whose help he had become Mudir; but as he had abandoned them, they were
anxious to revenge themselves by plotting against him. On the other
hand, Nur Angara himself was a most resolute villain; without rhyme or
reason, and often merely to satisfy his own brutal pleasure, he shed
blood; and as for his views in regard to the property of his fellow
creatures, they were beyond the conception of the most advanced Social
Democrat in the world. As he was a Bey, and held the rank of colonel, I
ordered the proper salute to be fired when he entered the fort, gave him
a hearty welcome, and ordered his attendants to be lodged in one of Omar
Wad Darho's houses, lying to the north of the town. He was a tall,
beardless man, with a dark copper-coloured complexion, and the usual
three slits on his cheeks; he had an energetic and wild look, but when
talking he appeared to be a perfectly harmless individual. He was a
Dongolawi, and had been brought up by the Shaigi, Melek Tumbal, who was
formally a sanjak, and claimed descent from the Shaigia kings. When
quite a boy he had come to Cairo, and, owing to his connection with
Zubeir and his son, he had acquired to some extent the good-will of the
Government. He had an old mother of about sixty years of age living in
Dongola, and in spite of his wild character she had the same affection
and care for her son which Rauf Pasha's mother had for him. It is said
that when Gordon was in Dongola, an old woman asked to see him, and on
entering, said: "I am Nur Angara's mother, and have come to seek your
help." "But," said Gordon, "you have a good-for-nothing son, who passes
his time in riotous living instead of looking after his old mother."
"Ah!" said the old woman, "may he be always happy! I forgive him, but I
want you to help me." Gordon presented her with £50 from his own pocket,
and she returned home heaping blessings on his head and on that of her
undutiful son.

After speaking some time to Nur Angara about his province, I referred
quite casually to his great case, saying that I had had no time to
examine carefully into the matter, and that when he and his traducers
had rested sufficiently, I proposed sending them on to El Obeid. The
next day happened to be the first of Ramadan, and all the people were
fasting except Nur Angara, who did little else but drink araki and om
bilbil, and listen to the music of antelope-horns and noggaras played by
his attendants, and every now and then he ordered the big war-drum to be
beaten. So irritated was I by this constant noise that I sent orders to
him to stop it, telling him at the same time that it was a matter of no
concern to me whether he fasted or not; but I declined to allow him--a
Moslem, and an Egyptian official--to cause public annoyance, and I told
him he had no right to disregard public opinion. "I shall comply with
your orders," said he, "and stop my noisy amusements; but I never did
care for Ramadan, and never shall. I shall continue to drink as much as
I like, and I don't care a brass farthing what people say or think of
me." I could see that he was then under the influence of drink, so I
ordered him to go to his house and prepare to leave. Two days later he
quitted El Fasher for El Obeid, and on arrival there was at once
discharged from the Government service. Ali Bey Sherif also left when he
had finally handed over the province to me, and I now proposed going on
a tour of inspection through the entire country, with the administration
of which I had been intrusted.

Just as I was making preparations to start, news arrived that a fight
had occurred between the Maheria and Bedeyat Arabs at Bir el Malha; and
a few days afterwards Hasaballa, the head-Sheikh of the Maheria, with
many of the chiefs, arrived to represent the case. It appeared that the
Maheria Arabs had gone, as usual, to the natron fields at Bir el Malha
on the Arbaïn road, ten days' march north of El Fasher, to procure
natron to sell in Darfur; here they had been surprised and attacked by
their deadly enemies, the Bedeyat, who lived in the northeast portion of
Wadai, and who captured some fifteen hundred camels, and took upwards of
one hundred and sixty men prisoners. These tribes had been at war with
each other from remotest times, and men captured were generally ransomed
at the rate of ten to fifteen camels a head. It was usually considered
that the Bedeyat belonged to Darfur, though they never paid tribute; and
that, I suppose, was the reason for the Maheria Sheikhs coming to me to
ask for the forcible return of the captured men and camels.

The road between Assiut and Darfur had been formerly much used by
merchants, and large caravans used to pass along it; but it had been
discovered that it was also used as a slave route, and several merchants
had been caught in this traffic and had been exiled; consequently, the
Egyptian Government had given orders for the road to be closed. From the
first day I arrived in El Fasher, I had heard nothing but complaints
about the stoppage of trade along this road, and I had already
represented to the Government that this was the direct trade route with
Egypt, and would serve as an outlet for the ivory, feathers, skins, and
tamarisk fruit with which the country abounded, instead of sending it in
a roundabout way to Khartum, and thence down the Nile, involving the
merchants in heavy transport expenses as well as long delays. Government
now approved of my reopening trade by this road, but held me responsible
that no slaves should be sent along it. No sooner had I received this
permission than I ordered a caravan to be prepared, and, under the
guarantee and guidance of Sheikh Mohammed Wad Idris, some eight hundred
camels started for Egypt, and in less than seven weeks I received a
telegram _via_ Khartum announcing their safe arrival at Assiut.

As I was very anxious to inspect the northern and western frontiers of
Darfur, the complaint of the Maheria afforded me a pretext for doing so,
and for settling their affairs as well. I therefore ordered them to
supply, without delay, one hundred and fifty baggage-camels, and one
hundred "suga," or large water-skins made of bullock's hide; this they
readily agreed to do, and we named the village of Melek Hagger (the
chief of the Zaghawa Arabs), lying to the north of Kebkebia, as the
rendezvous.

About the middle of December, 1881, I left El Fasher with two hundred
infantry and some irregular Shaigia cavalry, under Omar Wad Darho. This
individual, it will be remembered, had been sent by Ali Bey Sherif to
settle the Madibbo-Egeil differences, and having found on my return to
Darfur that he had acted unjustly, I had discharged him; but he had
subsequently told me that he had been ordered by Ali Bey Sherif to
collect a considerable sum of money for him, and that, therefore, he
could not act otherwise. I pardoned and reinstated him; moreover, most
of the Shaigia horsemen in El Fasher were his relatives, and he was the
only man who appeared to be able to exercise any degree of authority
over them.

The first night after leaving El Fasher we camped near the Migdob wells,
about half way to Kobbé; and when it was dark, I happened to stroll
towards the wells, accompanied by one of my attendants. I was dressed in
much the same way as the soldiers, and it was too dark for me to be
recognised; I therefore came close to the well, and watched the women
drawing water. Some Shaigia now came up to water their horses, and asked
the women for their buckets, which they refused to give. "We shall first
fill our jars," they said, "and then you can use the buckets." "Your
words are as a punishment sent from God," replied one of the Shaigia;
"this is the result of bringing liberty into the country. By Allah! were
it not so, and were not Slatin with us, you and your vessels would very
soon be our property." "God grant him a long life!" was the retort; and
I strolled quietly away, thoroughly pleased to have heard with my own
ears an admission from the mouths of Sudanese that they were thankful to
the Europeans for having released them from the oppression and violence
which had hitherto characterised the system of government in this
country.

At 11 A. M. the next day we reached Kobbé, the old trade capital of
Darfur, which was now inhabited principally by Jaalin, whose fathers and
grandfathers, immigrating from the Nile valley, had intermarried with
the local people. The Mamur of this place was a certain Emiliani dei
Danziger, of a Venetian family of Austrian origin. He had been given
this position by Gordon, and I now sent him to act as Mudir of Dara. The
people seemed sorry to say good-bye to him; they said he was a good man,
and when slaves and masters disagreed, and the former wanted to leave
the latter, he had often been able, by quiet words, to effect a
reconciliation. Fortunately, I was not called upon to give any immediate
decisions here on the slave question, and the following morning, leaving
Kobbé, we marched, _via_ Sanied el Kebir and Bir el Gidar, to Kebkebia,
where we arrived in two days. Kebkebia is situated on a rocky plateau,
and just at the edge of a deep khor. In the centre of the town was a
square, loopholed enclosure about nine feet high, constructed of rough
stones and mud, smeared with whitewash, in which were the huts of the
officers and the small garrison. Formerly the Mudir and troops were
quartered at Kulkul, but had been transferred here about a year and a
half before. The buildings had not been completed, and, in consequence,
the houses of Nur Angara and the other officials were situated outside
the enclosure. The khor contained some good gardens and some very high
palm-trees, which gave the town a most picturesque appearance.

After inspecting the garrison under Major Adam Omar, I proceeded to my
quarters in the fort; and scarcely had I arrived there when I heard a
great noise and commotion, which I was told proceeded from the houses
occupied by Nur Angara's women. The noise increased to such an extent
that I sent for Nur Angara's brother Idris, and asked him what was the
cause. He began by making excuses, saying that it was only a little
domestic dispute; but when I pressed him, he admitted that all these
women knew that I had sent their lord and master to El Obeid, and they
wished to attract my attention. I now sent my chief clerk, Ahmed Effendi
Riad, the Kadi of the Mudiria, and Idris to make a full inquiry, and
report. They returned shortly, and stated that several of the women
complained before Idris of being kept by force in the house, and a few
of them said that they had not the necessary means of living. I now
sent the same deputation back again, and instructed the Kadi to give the
legal wives and their slave-girls injunctions to remain in the house and
await their master's orders; and at the same time he was to legally
nominate some one to look after them, while Idris was ordered to deduct
any expenses incurred in the maintenance of the family, from Nur
Angara's pay. A list was then to be made of the remaining women, who
were ordered to be sent to their relatives or tribes against receipts;
and I further instructed the delegates to remain quite neutral, and
force no one to leave the house who did not wish to do so, or who wished
to stay until their master's return; I added that I would be responsible
that such as wished to remain should be provided for. It is needless for
me to add that women's affairs take quite as long a time to settle in
the Sudan as they do in Europe; I was not, therefore, surprised that my
delegates remained absent two hours, and in the lists which they brought
back I found the names of no less than sixty young girls who pleaded for
liberty. They had all been captured in the various campaigns, and their
tribes were now the loyal subjects of the Government. Their detention by
force was, therefore, quite illegal, and I ordered them to be at once
sent back to their relatives. Of the remaining thirty, some, owing to
family matters, and others for various reasons, expressed a wish to
remain, and I gave instructions for them to be supplied with the
necessary means for living. As for Idris, I told him that I held him
responsible for his brother's household, and that he must either look
after the women or release them.

I also found the Bazingers and their wives in this station very
discontented, and I did what I could to place matters on a better
footing. Several of the neighbouring Sheikhs came to see me here,
amongst them Hegam of the Dar Massalit, Sultan Idris of Dar Gimr, El
Mahi of Dar Jebel, and Hamad Tor Jok of the Beni Hussein. I had a most
interesting conversation with these men, especially with the Massalit
Sheikh, who was constantly at war with the tribes on the Wadai
frontier. He told me it was their custom to go to battle with their
wives and children, who always carried the om bilbil. "This drink," said
he, "encourages one for the fight; and as for our wives and children,
why should we leave them for our enemies? We always go out to conquer or
die." I told him that I had heard it was the custom in their tribe to
use the skins of their slain enemies as water-skins, in their natural
form, and that if he had some of these skins, I hoped he would give me a
male and female as specimens. The Sheikh at once denied it; but the
other Sheikhs said that it was so, and Hegam admitted that it had been a
tribal custom long ago. I begged him to search among his old
war-trophies, and he promised he would do so; but he evidently failed to
procure one, for he never again mentioned the subject. These Sheikhs
afterwards asked to see me privately, and each of them in turn offered
me a horse, which, they said, was the custom of their country; but I
persistently refused to accept one, much to their chagrin.

After inspecting the books, I left Kebkebia, accompanied by Omar Wad
Darho, and directed the infantry to follow us to the village of Melek
Hagger, where we had arranged to meet the Maheria Sheikhs. The road now
became practically a desert; but as it was winter time, and we were
mounted, the journey was not a trying one. About half a day's march
beyond Kebkebia, we reached the Ogelli wells, where our horsemen filled
their water-bottles, and we started on again at midnight, so as to get
over the distance as quickly as possible. In the early morning we were
overtaken by some mounted messengers, despatched by Adam Omar with a
French cypher message from Marcopoli Bey, in the Governor-General's
name, which had been sent to Foga, whence it had been posted on to
Kebkebia _via_ El Fasher. It ran as follows: "A Dervish named Mohammed
Ahmed has, without just cause, attacked Rashed Bey near Gedir. Rashed
Bey and his troops have been annihilated. This revolt is very serious.
Take the necessary steps to prevent malcontents in your province from
joining this Dervish." I sent an immediate answer, as follows: "Your
message received. I shall take the necessary steps to comply with your
orders."

Some time previously, I had been told privately that a religious Sheikh
had been causing difficulty to the Government by calling on the natives
to resist authority. As, however, I had heard nothing of the matter
officially, I concluded it had been satisfactorily settled; but now this
annihilation of the Mudir Rashed Bey and his troops was evidently a
matter of grave import. The movement must have suddenly assumed large
dimensions; but who would have dreamt the results would have been so
terrible and so widespread!

Having started on this expedition, I could not now well give it up
without exciting mistrust; but I determined to bring it to a successful
issue with the least possible delay. That evening we came across a herd
of giraffe, which abound in this desert. Catching sight of us, they at
once scattered; and as I was mounted on the fast little pony Gordon had
given me, I galloped after one, and in a few minutes caught it up, and
could with ease have killed it; but I knew that to cut it up and
distribute the flesh would have taken hours, and the thought of this
alarming telegram induced me to let the animal go. That night we halted
at an ostrich hunter's settlement, and lost no time in lighting a fire
to keep ourselves warm. We found these great desert tracts bitterly
cold, and the Shaigia were so numbed they could scarcely sit on their
horses. These districts contain quantities of ostriches, which are
hunted by the Arabs and Gellabas. A party of them, taking a supply of
water on camels sufficient to last them for weeks, usually settle in
some spot in the desert frequented by ostriches, where they build little
straw huts just large enough to contain one man; and in these they
patiently wait, on the chance of a stray shot. Of course, if a man is
fortunate enough to discover where an ostrich has laid eggs and buried
them in the sand, he will patiently watch until the eggs are hatched,
when he seizes the little birds, puts them in the cage he has ready, and
takes them off to the nearest market, where he invariably gets a good
price for them.

We marched the whole of the next day, and at eleven o'clock the
following morning reached the village of Melek Hagger, and were welcomed
by the great Zaghawa Sheikh, who begged us to come to his village; but I
preferred to camp under an enormous nabak-tree which stood in the centre
of the khor, and was large enough to accommodate a hundred people under
its shade. Hasaballa, Sheikh of the Maheria, was also there, and told me
that he had collected the water-skins, and a hundred and fifty camels
which were grazing close by. Adjutant-Major Suleiman Basyuni, at the
head of two hundred infantry, also marched in that evening; and, having
procured from the village the quantity of corn required, as well as two
oxen which were offered by the Sheikhs and specially killed for the
troops, we were able to continue our march the next morning. Two days
later we reached Kama, the market town of the district ruled by Melek
Saleh Donkusa. This Donkusa's sister, Khadiga by name, when quite a
young girl, had been presented by her parents to Sultan Hussein, and had
eventually entered his harem, while her brother, who had also come to El
Fasher, obtained, owing to his superior ability, a high position in the
palace. Khadiga eventually bore Sultan Hussein a son, who died; and the
latter had then liberated both Khadiga and Saleh, and had appointed him
Emir of the portion of the Zaghawa tribe to which he belonged. Now it
happened that the mother of Saleh and Khadiga was a Bedeyat maiden, and
the present Bedeyat rulers were their uncles. All this I knew
beforehand, and had already taken steps to use Donkusa as an
intermediary between the Maheria and the Bedeyat, in order to induce the
latter to give up the stolen camels without being obliged to have
recourse to force.

Saleh informed me that, in accordance with my instructions, he had
already sent word to the Bedeyat chiefs, and that he expected them to
arrive in a few days to make their submission to me. He therefore begged
I would wait at his village. I was much gratified with this news, for I
was most anxious to settle matters quickly and get back to El Fasher. I
told Saleh to let the Bedeyat chiefs know that I did not intend to be
very severe, and that if they were really anxious to avoid a conflict,
they should come at once; but at the same time I told him to warn them
that I was very strong, and would not be tampered with.

It is a strange fact that the Bedeyat, although completely surrounded by
Moslem states and peoples, are almost the only tribe in this part of
Central Africa who still adhere to their old heathen customs. If their
chiefs are asked by Mohammedans to repeat the creed, they can say,
"There is no God but God, and Mohammed is his Prophet." But beyond this
they know nothing; they are utterly ignorant of the precepts of the
Kuran, and never pray as Moslems.

Under the widespreading branches of an enormous heglik-tree, and on a
spot kept beautifully clean and sprinkled with fine sand, the Bedeyat
beseech an unknown god to direct them in their undertakings, and to
protect them from danger. They have also religious feasts at uncertain
dates, when they ascend the hills, and on the extreme summits, which are
whitewashed, they offer sacrifices of animals. They are a fine, stalwart
race, very dark in colour, with straight features, a thin nose and small
mouth, and resemble Arabs more than Negroes. The women are famed for
their long flowing hair, and there are some great beauties amongst them,
as one often finds amongst the free Arab tribes. They generally wear
skins of animals round their waists and loins; but the higher class and
their women dress in long flowing robes made of white Darfur cotton
cloth. Their food is very plain. Corn does not grow in their country,
and is almost unknown to them. They take the seeds of the wild pumpkin,
which grows there in abundance, and they soak them in wooden vessels
made from the bark of trees. After taking the outer shells off, they
leave the seeds to steep until they lose their bitterness, and then,
straining them off and mixing them with dates, they grind them into a
sort of flour, which is cooked with meat, and forms the principal food
of the country.

[Illustration: Bedayat praying to the Sacred Tree.]

They have also most strange customs as regards inheritance and
succession. The cemeteries are generally situated at some distance from
the villages; and when a father dies, the body is taken by all the
relatives to be buried. The ceremony over, on a given signal they all
rush together at the top of their speed to the deceased's house; and he
who arrives first and fixes his spear or arrow in it is considered the
rightful heir, and not only becomes possessor of all the cattle, but
also of his father's wives and other women, with the exception of his
own mother. He is at perfect liberty to marry them if he wishes, or he
can set them free. A man's female household is entirely regulated by his
financial position. It is great or small according as the lord and
master is rich or poor.

As I before remarked, most of the people still adhered to their pagan
customs, and it amused me greatly when Saleh Donkusa, who was by way of
being a good Moslem himself, denied to me, in the most emphatic manner,
that such customs were still in vogue in his tribe. I asked him what the
great heglik-tree was which I had passed the previous day when riding
through the khor, and why the ground underneath was sprinkled with fine
sand. The question surprised him, and for a moment, he was silent; he
then answered that it was the usual meeting-place in which tribal
matters were discussed. "The Maheria Arabs," said I, "wanted to graze
their cattle near the tree; but when I saw that it was dedicated for
some special purpose, I prevented them from doing so." He thanked me
most heartily, and I could see that, though a fanatical Moslem himself,
he was determined to uphold the ancient manners and customs of his
tribe, and so retain his hold over them. I subsequently learned that it
was entirely through him that the holy tree was preserved; and as my
work was not that of a missionary, I had no desire to interfere in their
religious matters, and possibly bring about difficulties with the
Bedeyat, who had never seen a white man before.

I was beginning to lose patience, owing to the delay of the chiefs in
coming, when a certain Ali Wad el Abiad arrived; he had been Sub-Kadi of
Shakka, and had just been discharged by Emiliani, against whom he made
the most bitter complaints, charging him with allowing the clerks to do
exactly as they pleased, because he was so ignorant of the Arabic
language. He then told me he had heard in Shakka that a Dervish had been
preaching a Jehad (religious war) against the Turks (Government), and
had already fought several successful actions. I immediately wrote off
to Emiliani, telling him of the Kadi's complaint, and urging him to do
all in his power to prevent the Arabs communicating with the rebels, and
to endeavour to do his utmost to keep the country tranquil. I also told
him to lose no time in reporting to me fully on the general state of
affairs.

At length, after a stay of six days at Kamo, Saleh came to me with the
satisfactory news that the Bedeyat chiefs would arrive the next day. In
concert with him, I selected the heglik-tree as the place of meeting,
which was to be held one hour after sunrise and in which he was to act
as the intermediary between myself and the Bedeyat. I then ordered our
tents to be moved to within less than half a mile of the tree, and early
the next morning I had the troops drawn up in line ready to receive the
Bedeyat chiefs, whose approach Saleh now announced. Standing with my
officers and sanjak, Omar Wad Darho, about one hundred yards in front of
the line, with our servants holding the horses, we prepared to receive
our distinguished visitors, who, guided by Saleh, were now seen
advancing, with their hands crossed on their chests and heads bowed low.
They had brought an interpreter with them, and through him we exchanged
mutual greeting. I then ordered carpets to be spread on the ground, and
asked them to be seated, whilst I and my officers sat on small field
chairs; and, having partaken of sugar and water and dates, we began our
palaver.

[Illustration: Surrender of the Bedayat to Slatin.]

The four Bedeyat Sheikhs were tall, fine-looking middle-aged men, with
good features and dressed in long white robes which no doubt our friend
Saleh had prepared for them; they also wore the usual straight Arab
sword. Their names were Gar en Nebbi, Bosh, Omar, and Kurukuru; but I am
not quite sure that these high-sounding Arab names were not assumed for
the occasion. Their attendants, numbering between sixty and seventy men,
dressed in shirts and skins, stood some way behind, while Saleh Donkusa
seated himself close to the Sheikhs and the interpreter. The spokesman,
Gar en Nebbi, now addressed the interpreter with the words "Kursi
Sellem," to which the latter answered "Sellem," indicating that he was
ready to translate; and he then began: "We belong to the Bedeyat tribe,
and our fathers and grandfathers have paid tribute to the Sultans of
Darfur every two or three years when an officer was sent to collect it.
You Turks have now subdued the Furs and have conquered the country, and
you have never before asked us to pay tribute. You [Slatin]--as our
friend and brother Saleh Donkusa has informed us--are the ruler of this
country, and in token of submission we have brought you ten horses, ten
camels, and forty cows. Do you, therefore, fix the amount of tribute to
be paid by us."

It was now my turn to speak; so, repeating the "Kursi Sellem," I began:
"I thank you for your submission, and I am only going to demand a small
tribute; but I have specially come here to call on you to return the
camels you stole from the Maheria, and release the prisoners you
captured." Gar en Nebbi, after a short pause, replied: "Since the time
of our forefathers we have been in constant feud with the various Arab
tribes. If we fight and take prisoners, it is our custom to allow them
to be ransomed. We have often before released Maheria captives." I
referred to Sheikh Hasaballa to ask if this was so, and he answered in
the affirmative; and then I asked whether he had ever done so since the
Egyptian Government had taken possession of the country, or whether he
referred to the period in which they were ruled by the Darfur Sultans.
"Before you conquered the country," he answered, "but only two years
ago, the Maheria invaded our country; we repulsed them and drove them
out, so that they returned empty-handed." I looked at Hasaballa, and saw
from his silence that the Bedeyat was telling the truth. "That may be
so," I answered, "but at that time I was not governing this country. I
am well aware that in those days you did what you thought was right, and
I do not in any way blame you for it; but as I am now your master, I
wish you to act in accordance with my orders. You should, therefore,
hand over your prisoners; but as the Maheria previously attacked you,
then I order that instead of returning them all the camels you took, you
can retain half, as a reward for your bravery in having prevented them
from pillaging your country." A long pause now took place, and the four
Sheikhs discussed the matter between themselves. Gar en Nebbi then
answered, "We shall comply with your orders; but as it will take a long
time to collect the camels, which are scattered throughout the country,
it will be easier for us to release the captives." "Then look sharp,"
said I, "and carry out these orders as soon as possible; and when you
have done so, I will release you from the payment of this year's
tribute. I can quite understand that it may cause you some difficulty to
return the camels and pay your taxes as well."

This arrangement apparently quite satisfied them, and they thanked me
profusely; so I asked them to stay with us till the following day, and
Saleh would look after all their wants. Then, mounting our horses, I
gave the command to the troops to fire three volleys, which terrified
the poor Bedeyat, who had scarcely ever seen fire-arms. Telling Saleh to
bring the Sheikhs before me the next morning at the same hour, I
galloped off with my escort to the camp.

During the day I busied myself in considering how best to get back to
El Fasher without endangering the success of my present expedition; I
could not wait until the Bedeyat had collected and handed over their
captives; moreover, I was disturbed about the condition of the
water-skins supplied by the Maheria, and blamed Hasaballa severely for
furnishing such bad equipment. Next morning, when the Sheikhs arrived, I
asked them if they had yet despatched men to collect the prisoners and
camels; and when they answered no, I replied in an irritated tone that I
could not possibly wait to see my orders carried out. To this Gar en
Nebbi answered, "Master, we are here to carry out your orders; you can
return, and we shall deliver over the men and animals to Saleh Donkusa
and Hasaballa, who is remaining as his guest." "I have another proposal
to make," said I. "I do not doubt your sincerity and loyalty, but I am
anxious to know you better personally; I wish, therefore, you and any
others you may desire to bring with you should accompany me to El
Fasher, and at the same time tell your representatives to collect the
men and animals and hand them over to Hasaballa, who is staying with
Donkusa. When I hear at El Fasher that this has been done, I shall then
send you back to your country laden with rich presents. You have never
visited El Fasher yet, and you will be interested to see the seat of
Government and understand its power, and I sincerely trust that you and
Saleh will concur with my proposal; you will be so pleased with all you
will see that in future I know you will always comply most readily with
my orders."

Saleh at once answered that he thought the proposal a very good one, and
that he was content to stay behind, as he had already seen El Fasher. I
saw by the faces of the Bedeyat that the idea pleased them, and after a
long palaver amongst themselves they made up their minds to accompany
me. Knowing that the sooner they carried out my orders about the return
of the captives and camels the sooner they would start, they lost no
time in nominating good men as their representatives with the tribe,
and, selecting six men as their attendants, they announced they were
ready to leave; but before starting they wished to swear the oath of
fidelity, in which, of course, I readily acquiesced. The ceremony was
performed as follows: A horse's saddle was brought and placed in the
midst of the assembly, and on this was laid a large earthenware dish
filled with burning charcoal; a lance was then fixed to the saddle, and
the head-Sheikhs, with their attendants, now came forward and,
stretching out their hands over the lance and burning charcoal, they
recited the following words with great solemnity, "May my leg never
touch the saddle, may my body be smitten with the lance that kills, and
may I be consumed by the burning fire, if I ever break the solemn oath
of fidelity which I now make to you."

After this solemn declaration I had now no doubt of the loyalty and
honesty of these people.

That afternoon I gave the order to start, and, accompanied by the four
Bedeyat chiefs and their attendants, we left Kamo, having given Saleh
and Hasaballa most strict injunctions to inform me without delay when
the tribe had complied with my instructions. Anxious to reach El Fasher
without further delay, I left the Sheikhs in charge of the infantry,
telling the officers to do all that was possible to make their journey
comfortable; and then, accompanied by Omar Wad Darho and my Shaigia
escort, I set off at a rapid pace.

The first information I received on arrival at El Fasher was the sad
news of the sudden death of Emiliani at Shakka. He had been suffering
from heart disease for years, and at last it had carried him off; his
officials, who did not understand the suddenness of the disease, thought
they might be suspected of poisoning him, and had at once brought his
body on a camel to Dara, where the apothecary held a rough post-mortem
examination, and certified that death had occurred from natural causes.
His body was buried at Dara, and I afterwards had a stone erected to
commemorate my poor countryman who had died in this distant land.

I next learnt that some trouble had arisen at Shakka which would oblige
me to go to Dara for a few days. Disquieting rumours also reached us of
the state of affairs in Kordofan and Khartum; however, it was generally
thought in Government circles that the revolt would be speedily crushed
by the military expedition despatched for this purpose.

A few days later the troops with the Bedeyat Sheikhs arrived, and in
order to impress them, I ordered out all the garrison, and in the
evening we had a grand firework display in their honour. I intrusted the
Mudir with looking after the comfort of my guests, but unfortunately I
was not able to stay long with them; as soon as the horses were
sufficiently rested, I started off again for Dara, accompanied by Darho
and his two hundred Shaigias, leaving Said Bey Guma as commandant and
representative of the Government during my absence.




CHAPTER IV.

THE KHALIFA'S PERSONAL ACCOUNT OF THE RISE OF THE MAHDI.

    Early Life of Mohammed Ahmed, the Mahdi--The Religious
    Tarikas--Mohammed Ahmed quarrels with his Religious Superior--He
    is refused Forgiveness, and joins a Rival Sheikh--He is joined
    by Abdullahi et Taaishi--The Mahdi secretly tells Abdullahi of
    his Divine Mission--The Failure to seize Mohammed Ahmed on Abba
    Island--The Mahdi's Hejira to Jebel Gedir--He nominates his
    Khalifas--The Defeat of Rashed Bey and Yusef Pasha
    Shellali--Effect of the Mahdi's Victories in Kordofan--The
    Mahdi's Intrigues with the Inhabitants of El Obeid--Futility of
    the Steps taken by the Government to cope with the Revolt.


The revolt raised by the so-called Dervish proved to be of a very
serious nature.

This man, Mohammed Ahmed, was born near the Island of Argo, in Dongola,
and was of a poor and obscure family, but who claimed to be "Ashraf," or
descendants of the "Prophet." Their claims to this dignity, however,
were not inquired into or acknowledged by any one. In general he was
known as a Dongolawi. His father was an ordinary fiki, or religious
teacher, and had given him his early instruction in reading the Kuran
and in writing, and when still a child had taken him to Khartum; but he
himself had died on his journey, near Kerreri, and here his son
subsequently erected a tomb to him, known as the "Kubbet es Sayed
Abdullahi" (the dome of Sayed Abdullahi).

Young Mohammed Ahmed was now left entirely to his own resources. He
studied assiduously, and, being of a deeply religious disposition, he
became a great favourite with his master, who taught him to learn the
Kuran by heart, and gave him his early instruction in theology; he
subsequently went to Berber, and became the pupil of the well-known
Mohammed el Kheir (formerly Mohammed ed Dekkeir), who completed his
religious education. He remained for several years in Berber continually
studying, and his unassuming nature, intelligence, and religious zeal
made him a great favourite with his instructors. When he arrived at
manhood he quitted Berber and went to Khartum, where he became a
disciple of the celebrated and highly revered Sheikh Mohammed Sherif,
whose father, Nur ed Dayem, and grandfather, Et Tayeb, had been the
principal exponents of the Sammania Tarika, or doctrine.

The meaning of the word "tarika" is literally "way"; hence "Sheikh et
Tarika" signifies "the guide to the way." The duties of these holy
personages consist in writing a certain number of prayers and texts of
the Prophet, which the devotees are called upon to repeat a certain
number of times, and thus facilitate the "way" to those heavenly
mansions which are the goal of all true believers. The Sheikhs et Tarika
are therefore exponents of various doctrines, and each one bears the
name of the original founder of the order; such as the "Khatmia," the
"Khadria," the "Tegania," the "Sammania," etc. They are held in high
respect by their disciples, who are their most devoted and obedient
adherents.

Mohammed Ahmed soon showed himself a most zealous and ardent supporter
of the Sammania tarika, and became very devoted to its head, Sheikh
Mohammed Sherif. He now went to live on the Island of Abba, on the White
Nile, near Kawa, surrounded by several devoted disciples. They earned a
livelihood by cultivating the lands, and received frequent gifts from
religious persons who passed up or down the Nile. Mohammed Ahmed's
grand-uncle, Mohammed Sharfi, had resided on the island for some years,
and the young zealot had married his daughter. His two brothers,
Mohammed and Hamed, also lived there, drove a good trade in
boat-building, and supported the young fiki, who had hollowed out for
himself a cave in the mud bank, and lived here in almost entire
seclusion, fasting often for days, and occasionally paying a visit to
the head of the order to assure him of his devotion and obedience.

One day it fell out that Mohammed Sherif, as is the custom on such
occasions, had gathered together his Sheikhs and disciples to celebrate
the feast of the circumcision of his sons; he had also given out that
his guests might amuse themselves by singing and dancing as they liked,
and that as such feasts were occasions of rejoicing, he would pardon, in
God's name, any sins that might be committed during the festivities
which were contrary to the religious law. But the godly fiki, Mohammed
Ahmed, pointed out to his friends that singing, dancing, and playing
were transgressions against the laws of God, and that no man, be he even
Sheikh et Tarika, could forgive such sins. These views reached the ears
of Mohammed Sherif, who, entirely disagreeing with Mohammed Ahmed's
arguments, and being withal very angry at this assumption on the part of
his disciple, called on him to justify himself. Consequently Mohammed
Ahmed, in the presence of all the inferior Sheikhs and fikis, came in
the most humble manner before Mohammed Sherif and besought his
forgiveness. Sherif, however, abused him roundly, called him a traitor
and a sedition-monger who had broken his vow of obedience and fidelity,
and ignominiously struck him off the list of disciples of the Sammania
order.

Thoroughly humbled and subdued, Mohammed Ahmed now went to one of his
relatives and asked him to make a sheba;[3] and with this on his neck,
and his head besprinkled with ashes, he again returned in deep
repentance to Mohammed Sherif, begging his forgiveness. The latter,
however, utterly refused to have anything further to say to him, and, in
despair, Mohammed Ahmed returned to his family in Abba. He held the
founders of the Sammania order, Sheikhs Nur ed Dayem and et Tayeb, in
the greatest respect, and to be removed with ignominy from his beloved
tarika was a disgrace too hard to be borne. Shortly afterwards Mohammed
Sherif happened to be in the neighbourhood, and again Mohammed Ahmed
appeared before him in the sheba and ashes, and once more implored
forgiveness. "Be off, you traitor!" shouted Mohammed Sherif. "Get away,
you wretched Dongolawi, who fears not God and opposes his master and
teacher! You have verified the words of the saying, 'Ed Dongolawi
Shaitan mugalled bigild el insan' [The Dongolawi is the devil in the
skin of a man]. By your words you try to spread dissension amongst the
people. Be off with you! I shall never forgive you!"

Kneeling in silence, his head bowed low, Mohammed Ahmed listened to
these scathing words; then, rising, he went sadly away. Tears streamed
down his cheeks; but they were not now tears of repentance. Rage and
anger burned within him, and these feelings were heightened by the
knowledge of his powerlessness to do anything by which to wipe out this
disgrace and insult. Boiling over with indignation, he returned to his
home and announced to his faithful disciples that he had been finally
abandoned by Mohammed Sherif, and that he now intended to apply to
Sheikh el Koreishi, who lived near Mesallamia, to receive him into his
order. This Sheikh had succeeded the holy Sheikh et Tayeb, the
grandfather of Mohammed Sherif, and was one of those authorised to
maintain and teach the Sammania doctrines as he considered right; and on
this account there was considerable jealousy between him and Mohammed
Sherif.

In due time Sheikh el Koreishi's reply was received, saying that he
would accept him gladly. Mohammed Ahmed and his disciples now made all
preparations to proceed to Mesallamia, and were on the point of
starting, when a message was received from Mohammed Sherif, directing
him to appear before him, when he would give him a full pardon, and
permit him to resume his old functions; but to this Mohammed Ahmed sent
back a dignified answer that he felt perfectly innocent of any crime,
and sought no forgiveness from him; and that moreover he had no desire
to lower him in the eyes of the world by bringing about a meeting
between him and "a wretched Dongolawi."

Sheikh Koreishi now received him with open arms; and the incident
between the godly but cunning Mohammed Ahmed and his late spiritual
guide spread far and wide in the Sudan. That an inferior in a religious
order should have refused the forgiveness of his superior was an
unheard-of proceeding; but Mohammed Ahmed did not hesitate now to
proclaim openly that he had left his late superior because he could no
longer have any respect for a master who acted contrary to the religious
law. And in this way he secured an immense amount of public sympathy,
which brought his name prominently forward, and added considerably to
his prestige. Even in distant Darfur the matter was the principal topic
of conversation, and his refusal to accept forgiveness made him the hero
of the hour.

He obtained Sheikh Koreishi's permission to return to Abba, where he
received visitors from all parts, who sought the blessing of this holy
man; and common people now crowded to the island, seeing in him a
sympathetic leader who was bold enough to openly defy his superiors. He
received quantities of gifts, and these he openly distributed amongst
the poor, thus earning the epithet of "Zahed" (the renouncer, or one who
has renounced the good things of this life). He then made a journey
through Kordofan, where the towns and villages abound with religious
fikis of the most ignorant and superstitious description. Amongst them
he had an enormous success. He also wrote a pamphlet, which he
distributed amongst his specially trusted adherents, summoning them as
true believers to do all in their power to purify the religion, which
was becoming debased and insulted by the corruption of the Government
and the utter disregard of the officials for the tenets of the true
faith.

A few months later the Sheikh el Koreishi died, and Mohammed Ahmed and
his disciples lost no time in going at once to Mesallamia, where they
erected a tomb, or dome, to his memory.

It was while here that a certain Abdullahi bin Mohammed, of the Taaisha
section of the Baggara (cattle-owning) tribe of southwestern Darfur,
presented himself to Mohammed Ahmed and sought permission to be admitted
into the Sammania Tarika; his request was granted, and Abdullahi swore
eternal fidelity to his new master. This man was the eldest of the four
sons of Mohammed et Taki, of the Juberat division of the Taaisha tribe,
which in its turn was descended from the "Aulad um Sura." His three
other brothers were Yakub, Yusef, and Sammani; he also had a sister
named Fatma. The father was on bad terms with his relatives, and
determined to proceed on pilgrimage with his whole family to Mecca,
where he resolved to settle, and end his days in close proximity to the
birthplace of his Prophet. Those who knew Et Taki described him as a
good man, scrupulous in his attendance to his religious duties, and
capable of curing diseases and insanity by means of heggabs, or
religious charms; he was also a teacher of the Kuran. Of his sons,
Abdullahi and Yusef were the most unmanageable, and the father had the
greatest difficulty in making them learn by heart even the few passages
from the Kuran necessary for the ordinary prayers. Yakub and Sammani, on
the other hand, had more of their father's quiet disposition, and,
having learnt their verses and commentaries, were able to help him in
his religious duties.

The family had, it appears, joined the Furs in combating Zubeir's entry
to Darfur, and the latter relates how, during the fight at Shakka, he
took Abdullahi prisoner, and was about to have him shot, when some of
the Ulema craved pardon for him, which he granted. Abdullahi, in his
gratitude, subsequently sought out Zubeir secretly, and announced to him
that he had had a dream, in which it had been shown to him that he was
the expected Mahdi, and that he (Abdullahi) was to be one of his
faithful followers. "I told him," relates Zubeir, "that I was not the
Mahdi; but that when I became aware of the wickedness of the Arabs, and
how they blocked the roads, I came to open them and establish trade."

Et Taki and the family quitted their home when Zubeir had concluded
peace, and, travelling _via_ Kalaka to Shakka, they had remained there
two years, and had proceeded thence _via_ Dar Homr and El Obeid to Dar
Gimr, where they remained the guests of the head-Sheikh for some months,
and where Et Taki died, and was buried by the head-Sheikh, Asaker Abu
Kalam, at Sherkéla. Before his death he urged on his eldest son,
Abdullahi to take refuge with some religious Sheikh on the Nile, then
immigrate to Mecca, and never return again to their country.

Leaving his brothers and sister under the care of Sheikh Asaker Abu
Kalam, in accordance with the dying wishes of his father, Abdullahi set
out for the Nile valley; and when making inquiries along the road, he
heard of the dissension between Mohammed Ahmed and his Sheikh, Mohammed
Sherif, and he resolved to go to the former and ask him to allow him to
join the order. "It was a very troublesome journey," said Abdullahi bin
Sayed Mohammed, Khalifat el Mahdi (his full name), to me some years
later, when he first became ruler of the Sudan; for at that time he used
to talk openly to me, and had not learnt to mistrust me, as he did
latterly. In those days, as I shall subsequently relate, he would send
for me and chat with me alone by the hour, seated on his beautifully
made angareb, over which a palm-mat was spread, whilst I sat beside him
on the ground, with my legs tucked up under me. "Yes, indeed, it was a
very troublesome journey," he repeated. "At that time my entire property
consisted of one donkey, and he had a gall on his back, so that I could
not ride him; but I made him carry my water-skin and a bag of corn, over
which I spread my rough cotton garment, and drove him along in front of
me. At that time I wore the wide cotton shirt, like the rest of my
tribe. You remember it, do you not, Abdel Kader? For you have only
recently come from my beautiful country [he always used to call me
"Abdel Kader," unless there happened to be present another man of the
same name, when he would call me "Abdel Kader Saladin," _i. e._,
Slatin]. My clothes and my dialect at once marked me out as a stranger
wherever I went; and when I crossed the Nile, I was frequently greeted
with 'What do you want? Go back to your country; there is nothing to
steal here.' The Nile people do not think well of us," he continued,
"because the merchants going west to Zubeir, in Bahr el Ghazal and to
our countries, were frequently maltreated by the Arabs; and when I asked
them where the Mahdi, who was known as Mohammed Ahmed, lived, they gazed
at me incredulously, saying, 'What are you going to him for? He would
not soil his lips by even mentioning the name of your race.' Every one,
however, did not treat me in this way; some would take pity on me and
direct me. Once, when passing through a village, the people wanted to
take my donkey away, saying that it had been stolen from them the year
before; and they would have succeeded, had not an elderly and
God-fearing man interposed and allowed me to pursue my way. I was
continually mocked and hooted at during my long journey; and had not a
few people out of sheer pity occasionally given me some food, I must
have starved. At length I reached Mesallamia, and here I found the Mahdi
busily engaged in building the tomb of the late Sheikh el Koreishi. On
seeing him I entirely forgot all the troubles I had suffered on my
journey, and was content to simply look at him and listen to his
teaching. For several hours I was too timid to dare to speak to him; but
at length I plucked up courage, and in a few words told him my story,
and about the sad condition of my brothers and sister, and I begged him,
for the sake of God and His Prophet, to allow me to become one of his
disciples. He did so, and gave me his hand, which I kissed most
fervently, and I swore entire submission to him as long as I lived. This
oath I kept most scrupulously until the angel of death overtook him; and
some day he will overtake us, and therefore we should ever be ready to
meet him."

Pausing for a moment, he gazed at me, and I at once said, "Yes, indeed,
sire, you have faithfully kept your promise; and the Lord God Almighty
has rewarded you; for you, who at one time were despised and rejected,
have now become absolute lord and sovereign of this land. Those who
insulted you at that time should indeed be thankful that you have not
wreaked vengeance on their heads. A man capable of such restraint must
indeed be the successor of the Prophet." Abdullahi, I knew, loved praise
and flattery, and on this occasion I perhaps almost exceeded the limits;
but I was most anxious that he should continue to tell me his story.

"When I had taken the oath," continued Abdullahi, "the Mahdi called one
of his disciples, named Ali, and said to him, 'You are brethren from
this day; give each other your mutual support, trust in God, and do you,
Abdullahi, obey the orders of your brother.' Ali was very good to me; he
was as poor as myself, but when the Mahdi sent him any food he always
shared it fairly with me. During the day we carried bricks required for
building the tomb, and at night we slept side by side. In a month the
dome was complete. At this time the Mahdi received hundreds of visitors,
and had little time to look at or think of me; still, I knew that I had
found a place in his heart, and he appointed me one of his
flag-bearers.[4] When we left Mesallamia, people flocked around us to
gaze at the Mahdi, whom they at that time called only Mohammed Ahmed,
and listen to his teachings and seek his blessing.

"It was in this way that we marched to the Island of Abba. My sandals
were worn out, and I had to give my donkey to a Mukaddum [superior
disciple] to carry a sick man; but at length we reached the Mahdi's
house, and now I fell very ill with dysentery. My brother Ali took me to
his little straw hut, which was scarcely large enough to hold two
people, looked after my food, and, as I was in bed, he used to fetch
water from the river to enable me to perform my 'wadu' [religious
ablution].

"One evening he went to fetch the water, but did not return; and the
next day I was told that he had been attacked and killed by a
crocodile,--Allah yerhamu! Allah yeghfurlu! [May God be merciful, may
God forgive him his sins!]" I repeated these words after the Khalifa,
adding, "Sire, how great is your patience! and therefore has God exalted
you. Now may I ask you if, during your illness, the Mahdi paid any
attention to you?" "No," replied Khalifa Abdullahi, "the Mahdi wished to
try me. It was not till after Ali's death, and when I lay helpless in
the hut, that he was told I was ill. One evening he came to see me. I
was too weak to get up, so he sat beside me, and gave me some warm
medida [a sort of meal pap which, mixed with melted butter, is used as a
stimulant] out of my pumpkin gourd, saying, 'Drink that, it will do you
good; trust in God.' He then left me, and shortly afterwards some of the
brethren arrived, and took me, by his order, to a cottage near his own
hut. He himself lived in a simple tukul [straw hut]. From the moment I
had taken the medida which he had given me I felt better; he had said it
would do me good, and the Mahdi always speaks the truth, and cannot
lie." "Yes, indeed," I interposed; "the Mahdi is faithful and true, and
you as his successor have followed exactly in his footsteps." "Once near
him," continued the Khalifa, "I recovered rapidly, for I saw the Mahdi
daily; he was as the light of my eyes, and my mind was at rest. He used
to ask about my family, and said they had better remain in Kordofan for
the present. 'Trust in God' was always the last thing he said to me. He
now used often to come and talk privately with me, and one day he
intrusted me with the secret of his divine mission. He was appointed as
Mahdi by God, he said, and had been taken by the Prophet into the
presence of the apostles and saints. But long before he intrusted me
with his secret--indeed from the first moment I beheld his face--I knew
that he was the messenger of God,--el Mahdi el Muntazer [the expected
guide]. Yes, these were indeed happy days, and we had then no cares or
troubles; and now, Abdel Kader, as it is getting late, you had better go
to bed." "May God grant you a long life, and may He strengthen you to
lead the true believers into the right path," said I; and I quitted his
presence with the usual salute.

In Abdullahi, the Mahdi had a ready instrument at hand for his great
work. It is strange to think that this man might never have risen to any
importance, had he not quarrelled with Mohammed Sherif; but now the
reputation he had already gained amongst the inhabitants of the Gezira
(the country lying between the Blue and White Niles) raised hopes in his
mind that he was destined for a high position. He now began to secretly
tell his special adherents that the time had come when religion must be
purified, that this was to be his work, and that those of them who
wished might join him in it. But he always called himself the slave of
God, and made believe that he was acting entirely on inspiration from
above. Abdullahi was able to give him full information about the western
tribes, who, he said, being powerful and courageous, would gladly seize
an occasion to fight for the religion of God and his Prophet, and to
conquer or die. To secure their adherence he advised Mohammed Ahmed to
make a tour through Kordofan; and, setting out, they proceeded to Dar
Gimr, where Abdullahi's family immediately joined them and became his
faithful adherents. He told them, however, that the time had not yet
come for them to leave their homes; for the present they would be more
useful in inciting the local inhabitants.

From Dar Gimr he proceeded to El Obeid, where he visited all the
principal chiefs and Sheikhs, religious and other, and by inquiring
carefully into their views and opinions, he gradually laid the
foundations for his great design. In the strictest secrecy he told those
of whose fidelity he was assured that he had a divine mission to cleanse
and purify the religion, already polluted and debased by corrupt
officials. In El Obeid his most trusted confidant was the Sayed el
Mekki, the head of the religious Sheikhs; but he advised that for the
present no active steps should be taken, as the Government was very
powerful, and the tribes were too split up and disunited to be able to
raise a revolt. Mohammed Ahmed took a more sanguine view, and between
them it was agreed that Mekki should observe absolute secrecy, and
should take no steps until Mohammed Ahmed should begin the movement,
when he promised him his entire support.

After leaving El Obeid, he proceeded to Tagalla, where he interviewed
Mek Adam Um Daballo, the ruler of the district, who received him very
kindly, but who, on the advice of his Kadi, refused to make any promises
of assistance. He now returned to Abba, _via_ Sherkéla.

During this tour Mohammed Ahmed had full opportunities of seeing for
himself the state of the country, and he was soon convinced that there
was a spirit of the most bitter hostility against the authorities on the
part of the poorer population, who, as I have already pointed out, were
taxed out of all proportion to their property, and who suffered terrible
oppression and tyranny at the hands of the self-seeking and unscrupulous
tax-gatherers who infested the country. Amongst the latter, there were
now a considerable number of Sudanese, who lost no opportunity of
enriching themselves and of putting their relatives in positions of
secondary importance, to help them to this end. As a case in point,
Gordon's nomination of the wealthy Sudanese merchant Elias as Pasha and
Governor-General of Kordofan created an immense amount of ill-feeling in
the country; and the same might be said of his assistant, Abderrahman
ben Naga, also a wealthy Kordofan merchant. Both of them were capable
men, and understood the management of the people; but they worked
entirely for their interests and those of their relatives. Moreover, a
spirit of jealousy became rampant amongst other Sudanese of high rank,
who considered themselves quite as capable of filling high positions as
those who had been selected in preference to them. Consequently, when
Elias Pasha sent orders to Mek Adam to pay his taxes, he refused point
blank, as he was of royal descent. "I pay for goods I buy from
merchants, but I do not pay tribute to them," said Mek Adam proudly to
the officials who had been sent to him. At the same time he sent to El
Obeid to inquire if all the Turks and other "Whites" had died, as the
Government had now given high positions to men who were merely
merchants, instead of to persons of high descent. These were the reasons
for the subsequent discharge of Elias Pasha and Abderrahman from their
official positions, and their substitution by Turks and Egyptians.

As regards the Europeans, there were very few of us; but as a rule we
were liked and respected, because the people trusted our word; but I do
not doubt that we also gave them cause at times to be dissatisfied with
us. With probably the best intentions in the world, we would issue rules
and regulations entirely at variance with the manners, customs, and
traditions of the Sudanese. There is also no doubt that our attitude in
regard to the slave question caused wide-spread discontent. The religion
permitted slavery, and from time immemorial the ground had been
cultivated and the cattle tended by slaves. That slave-hunting and
slave-driving led to the perpetration of the most horrible cruelties and
bloodshed, I do not for a moment hesitate to admit; but this was a
matter of very little concern to the slave-buyers, who as a rule did not
ill-treat their slaves. Now we, by our activity and energy, had not only
made the export of slaves from the Black countries almost impossible,
but we listened to the complaints of slaves against their masters, and
invariably set them free.

Mohammed Ahmed cleverly seized the occasion of all this discontent to
act; he was well aware that religion was the only possible means of
uniting all these discordant elements and widely diversified tribes who
were at continual feud with each other; he therefore declared himself
the "Mahdi el Muntazer"; thus at once creating himself a personality
which must be superior to all others, and hoping by this means to drive
out of the country the hated Turks, Egyptians, and Europeans. But still
he thought the time for an open declaration was not yet ripe; he
therefore continued to increase the number of his trusted adherents,
till at length the nature of his divine mission became an open secret.

Some time previous to this, Rauf Pasha, Governor-General at Khartum, had
been secretly told by Mohammed Sherif of Mohammed Ahmed's intentions;
but it was known that the early differences between the two religious
Sheikhs had greatly embittered Sherif, and consequently the authorities
did not lay much store by his statements, and merely concluded that
Mohammed Ahmed was a holy man who had obtained a certain hold over the
people, owing to his superior sanctity.

But now the Government learnt from quite another source that this man
was a danger to the public peace, and therefore they determined to put
an end to the matter, once and for all.

For this purpose Rauf Pasha sent for Mohammed Bey Abu es Saud, who was
known to Mohammed Ahmed, and despatched him in a steamer to Abba with
orders to bring the Sheikh to Khartum. Mohammed Ahmed's friends,
however, gave him timely warning, and told him that if he came to
Khartum he would in all likelihood be kept there, through the intrigues
of Mohammed Sherif. When, therefore, Saud appeared at Abba, he was
welcomed by Abdullahi and Mohammed Ahmed's brother, who conducted him to
the Sheikh. Abu Saud now informed him of the reports--false he
admitted--which had been circulated about him, and strongly advised him
to come to Khartum and justify himself before his master, the
Governor-General. "What!" shouted Mohammed Ahmed, rising suddenly, and
striking his chest with his hand, "by the grace of God and his Prophet I
am the master of this country, and never shall I go to Khartum to
justify myself."

Abu Saud drew back terrified; he then tried to calm him by soft words;
but Mohammed Ahmed, who had previously planned this scene with Abdullahi
and his brother, continued to talk vehemently, and urged Abu Saud to
believe in the truth of what he said.

Abu Saud was now, however, much concerned about the safety of his own
person, and as soon as he could beat a safe retreat, he did so, and
returned to Khartum to inform the astonished Governor-General of the
failure of his mission.

Mohammed Ahmed now realised that there was no time to be lost; his
future depended entirely on his own immediate exertions, and he did not
hesitate to instantly write to his adherents throughout the length and
breadth of the Sudan, stirring them up against the Government, while he
directed his own immediate followers to prepare forthwith for the Jehad.

In the meantime, Rauf Pasha was not idle; realising, after his interview
with Abu Saud, that the matter was very serious, he resolved to despatch
two companies, each under the command of an adjutant-major, to seize
this fanatic; and thinking to create emulation between them, he promised
that the officer who succeeded in capturing him should be promoted at
once to the rank of major. But this plan only ended in creating discord,
and the consequences were direful in the extreme. The troops, under the
chief command of Abu Saud, were embarked in the steamer, "Ismaïlia,"
which had been armed with a gun, and, quitting Khartum early in August,
1881, they proceeded to Abba; but on the journey discussions arose
between the two officers and Abu Saud. Meanwhile Mohammed Ahmed, who had
news of the despatch of the steamer, collected his people, and,
obtaining help from the Degheim and Kenana tribes near him, whom he
summoned to join in a Jehad, he made all preparations to offer
resistance, stirring up religious enthusiasm by declaring that the
Prophet had appeared to him and announced that all persons taking part
in this religious war should earn the title of "Sheikh Abdel Kader el
Gilani" and "Emir el Aulia,"[5] titles highly prized amongst Moslems.
Now, however, that matters had become really serious, those who came
forward and offered to give up their property and lay down their lives
for the great cause were not numerous.

The steamers arrived off Abba at sunset, and, in spite of Abu Saud's
appeals, the two officers determined to disembark at once. But the
commander, into whose heart fear had entered when he heard Mohammed
Ahmed declaring that he was "master of the land," remained on board with
his gun, and anchored in mid-stream. Both officers, entirely ignorant of
the locality, and each jealous of the other winning the tempting reward,
advanced by different paths in the dead of night along the muddy banks
towards Mohammed Ahmed's settlement. The latter with his adherents had
quitted the huts, and, armed with swords, lances, and clubs, had hidden
themselves in the high grass, whilst the troops, arriving from opposite
directions, now opened a hot fire on the empty village, with the result
that each inflicted considerable loss on the other; and in the midst of
this hopeless confusion the villagers leapt from their ambush and
created terrible havoc amongst the already demoralised men, who fled in
all directions. A few only succeeded in reaching the bank and swimming
out to the steamer; and Abu Saud, now thoroughly terrified, wished to
return instantly to Khartum, but was at last induced by the captain to
stay till the following morning, in the hope of picking up fugitives.
None, however, came, and at dawn he steamed back at full speed, with his
direful news.

The effect of this success on Mohammed Ahmed and his adherents can be
readily understood; they had suffered little or no loss, though he
himself had been slightly wounded in the arm, and Abdullahi, who dressed
the wound, counselled that this little accident should be kept secret
from the rest. Still, the number of his followers was not largely
increased, as the local people were convinced that Government would take
strong measures to suppress the revolt, and they would not risk the
losses which they felt certain would ensue.

Mohammed Ahmed, strongly urged by Abdullahi and his brothers to
increase the distance between himself and the Khartum authorities, now
resolved to retreat to southern Kordofan; and to avoid this move being
considered a flight, he announced to his adherents that he had received
an inspiration to proceed to Jebel Masa,[6] and there await further
Divine instructions. Before quitting Abba, he appointed, also in
accordance with the Divine Will, his four Khalifas. The first of these
was Abdullahi, who (the precedent of the Prophet being adopted)
represented the Khalifa Abu Bakr es Sadik; Ali Wad Helu, of the Degheim
tribe (White Nile), was chosen to represent the Khalifa Omar ibn el
Khattab; and the representative of the fourth Khalifa, Ali el Karrar,
was Mohammed esh Sherif, one of Mohammed Ahmed's relatives, who was then
only a boy. The chair of the third Khalifa, Osman ibn Affan, was not
filled for the moment, but was subsequently offered to and refused by
the great Sheikh Es Sennusi, of Northern Africa.

To move this large following across the river was now a matter of some
difficulty, for the people who owned boats, fearing that they might be
accused of complicity, at first refused; but at length all--including a
large contingent of Degheim and Kenana Arabs, who joined at the last
moment--were transferred to the west bank; and, advancing into the Dar
Gimr country, Mohammed Ahmed summoned the inhabitants of the districts
through which he passed to follow him to Jebel Masa. The greatest
enthusiasm now prevailed amongst his followers, who lost no opportunity
of telling the credulous and superstitious populations through which
they passed, of the wonderful miracles performed by the Mahdi. On one
occasion, quite ignorant of any danger, he halted with only a few
followers in close proximity to the camp of a certain adjutant-major
named Mohammed Guma, who, with a party of sixty soldiers, was collecting
taxes. The latter, fearing the responsibility he might incur by
attacking him without orders, referred to El Obeid for instructions; but
long before they arrived the Mahdi had rejoined the bulk of his people
and had continued his march; so this golden opportunity was lost. Years
afterwards I met the unfortunate Guma in a sad and miserable plight in
Omdurman. "Ah!" said he, "if I had only known then that I should be
reduced to walking about barefoot, and begging my bread, I should not
have asked for instructions, and so allowed that wretched Dongolawi to
escape; it would have been better to have been killed than to have
endured the miseries of this wretched existence."

Another excellent opportunity of capturing him was also lost. It
happened that Giegler Pasha had been ordered to come to El Obeid to
represent the Governor-General in connection with a case of embezzlement
by a district inspector and wealthy Sudan merchant named Abdel Hadi;
hearing that the so-called Mahdi was in the neighbourhood, he
despatched, towards the end of September, Mohammed Said Pasha with four
companies to arrest him and bring him to El Obeid. But either by design
or through carelessness the expedition failed in its object; the troops,
apparently, halted during the day at the place in which the rebels had
slept the previous night, and after thus uselessly wasting three days,
they returned to El Obeid, the result being that they were discredited
as being afraid to attack, and the Mahdi's prestige rose
proportionately.

It had been Mohammed Ahmed's intention to stay for a time at Jebel
Tagalla; but Mek Adam, learning of this, sent one of his sons to him
with a gift of corn and sheep, bearing a message that he thought he had
better retire further into the interior. He was therefore obliged to
continue his journey, and after a long and troublesome march at length
reached Jebel Gedir, where, in addition to the local inhabitants, a
section of the Kenana tribe now resided.

At this time Rashed Bey was Governor of Fashoda; and, being fully
informed of the Mahdi's movements, resolved to attack him before he
became more powerful. A German named Berghof was also in Fashoda. He was
formerly a photographer in Khartum, but Rauf Pasha had sent him up the
river as an inspector for the suppression of slavery. Rashed now
advanced, accompanied by Berghof and Kaiku Bey, king of the Shilluks,
towards Gedir. Entirely underrating the enemy with whom he had to deal,
he marched with no military precautions, fell into a carefully prepared
ambush, and some fourteen hundred of his men were annihilated. So sudden
was the attack that there was not even time to fire a rocket. Rashed and
a few of his personal attendants made a gallant defence, but were soon
overpowered by superior numbers and killed.

This defeat occurred on 9th December, and Mohammed Ahmed no longer
hesitated to call himself the Mahdi. His prestige, especially in the
eyes of the Arabs, rose enormously; nevertheless, his relations with his
immediate neighbours were not of the best. Khalifa Abdullahi, in
subsequent conversations with me in Omdurman, referred to this period,
as far as I can recollect, in the following words: "We arrived at last
at Gedir, thoroughly tired out after our long and troublesome journey.
The Mahdi had only one horse, and that of the inferior Abyssinian breed,
while I had to walk almost the whole distance; but God grants strength
to those true believers who are ready to lay down their lives for the
faith. My brothers, Yakub, Yusef, and Sammani had joined us with their
families, also my stepmother, who was nursing my baby at her breast. My
brother Harun, too, would not stay behind, so he also joined us. I was
always greatly concerned about my wife, stepmother, and child, who is
Osman Sheikh ed Din, whom you now see before you. It did not so much
matter for us men; troubles and afflictions are sent us by God, and we
bear them, only too thankful that we should be chosen by Him to raise
the faith which had been trodden down to the dust, and to teach our
brethren. But," said he, smiling, "teaching won't bring us food for our
women and children. People flocked to us in crowds, it is true; but most
of them were even more destitute than ourselves, and came to us for
support. Those who were well off shunned us,--riches are the curse of
this world,--and those who have them will be deprived of the joys of
Paradise. The people whose countries we crossed did not give us much
help; but the little he got the Mahdi graciously offered to the
pilgrims, whom he considered as his guests. When I heard the women and
children weeping, I felt sometimes that my heart would break; but when I
gazed at the Mahdi's face I trusted in God and became at rest. Patience,
Abdel Kader, is the highest virtue. Practise that, and God will reward
you."

The defeat of Rashed Bey awakened the Government to a sense of the
serious nature of the revolt, and an expedition was at once organised
and placed under the command of Yusef Pasha Shellali, who had greatly
distinguished himself in Gessi's campaign in Bahr el Ghazal, and was
noted for his courage and resource. A reinforcement of a battalion of
infantry and some volunteers, under the command of Abdalla Wad Dafalla
(the brother of Ahmed Wad Dafalla), with Abd el Hadi and Sultan Dima,
was also to be sent from Kordofan.

Meanwhile the Mahdi despatched letters in all directions, proclaiming
his victories and his Divine mission. He summoned all to join the Jehad,
giving the name of Ansar[7] to his followers, and promising them
four-fifths of the booty taken in war (the remaining fifth he reserved
for himself), while to those who should fall fighting for God and His
religion he held out the certainty of the fullest enjoyment of the
pleasures of Paradise. Thus did he pander to the main characteristics of
the Sudanese, viz., fanaticism and greed.

Yusef Pasha Shellali's force, which numbered some four thousand men, was
composed of regular infantry under Mohammed Bey Suleiman and Hassan
Effendi Rifki, whom I had previously discharged; the irregular cavalry
were placed under the courageous Shaigia Melek, Taha Abu Sidr, and
leaving Khartum on 15th March, 1882, they proceeded to Kowa, where they
awaited the reinforcements expected from El Obeid.

Abdalla Wad Dafalla, however, found it no easy matter to collect
volunteers. There was a general feeling that it was wrong to fight
against a man of piety, and, moreover, as the Mahdi and his followers
were little else than beggars, there was no enticement of rich plunder
to allure them. Besides all this, Elias Pasha, the richest merchant in
Kordofan and the ex-Governor, was the deadly enemy of the Dafalla
family, and exercised all his influence, which was still considerable,
in preventing men joining him. However, Abdalla had agreed with the
authorities to proceed, and, including regulars, the force with which he
left El Obeid numbered some two thousand men; and joining with the
remainder at Kowa, the entire expedition of six thousand strong
proceeded to Fashoda, which was reached in the middle of May.

After a short rest, Yusef Pasha advanced west, and camped, on the
evening of 6th June, at Mesat, near Jebel Gedir, confident of success.
Why should such men as Yusef Pasha, Mohammed Bey, and Abu Sidr fear a
starving crowd of sickly, half-famished, and almost naked Arabs? Had
they not won victories on the White Nile at Duffilé? Had they not
conquered Bahr el Ghazal, and brought the proud Sultans of Darfur to
submission? What could this ill-armed and ignorant fiki do? Abdalla Wad
Dafalla alone raised a note of warning that they should not underrate
the danger. He had had a fall from his horse when marching out of El
Obeid, which is considered a bad omen in the Sudan; but who was going to
listen to this preacher in the wilderness? They did not even think it
worth while to cut down a few thorn bushes to make a zariba, but merely
picked up a little of the scrub lying close by, and formed a rough
enclosure, utterly inadequate for defence; so the Mahdi's sickly,
half-famished, and almost naked Arabs fell on Yusef Pasha's army in the
early dawn of the 7th June. Dashing through the slight inclosure, they
were on the sleeping soldiers in a moment, and made short work of them.
Yusef Pasha and Abu Sidr were killed in their night-shirts at the doors
of their tents, and in a few minutes there was scarcely a man left
alive. Abu Sidr's concubine rushed at her master's murderers, and shot
two of them with a revolver; but she fell prone over his body, stabbed
to the heart. Abdalla Wad Dafalla, with a few of his attendants, alone
made a short stand; but they soon shared the fate of their companions.

When anything unusual happens in uncivilised countries, it is always
considered by the natives as supernatural; and this was exactly the
effect of Yusef Pasha's disaster on the credulous and superstitious
minds of the Sudanese. For sixty years the country had been governed by
the Turks and Egyptians. If the tribes refused to pay their taxes, they
were invariably punished; and no one dared to question for a moment the
right of the authorities to do so. Now this holy fiki, Mohammed Ahmed,
had suddenly appeared on the scene. With a crowd of ill-armed and
undisciplined men he had inflicted several crushing defeats on the
well-armed and well-equipped Government troops. There could now be no
doubt he was the "Mahdi el Muntazer," the expected Mahdi!

The defeat of Yusef Pasha placed the whole of southern Kordofan in his
hands, and now he was in a position to make good his deficiencies. He
had gained money, arms, horses, and loot of all sorts; and these he
distributed amongst the chiefs of tribes who now flocked to him. They
believed most firmly that he was the true Mahdi, whose only intention
was to uphold the faith, and who had no regard for wealth and property.

The news of the Mahdi's victories now spread far and wide; and, amongst
an uneducated population such as that of Kordofan, the accounts were
exaggerated to a quite ridiculous extent. Roused by the spirit of
fanaticism, numbers of them quitted their homes, and marched to Jebel
Gedir, which was now openly re-named Jebel Masa, while others, gathering
round the local chiefs, prepared to fight against the various Government
posts and stations scattered throughout the country.

This condition of affairs was eminently favourable to the ruling
passions of the nomad Arabs. Under the cloak of a religious war, which
owed its existence to them, they massacred, plundered, and robbed the
natives who, they said, were loyal to the hated Turks; and at the same
time they shook themselves free from the taxation imposed on them by a
Government they detested.

The Mahdi now placed himself in communication with the merchants of El
Obeid, who, through their wealth and connection with the people,
virtually ruled the town and a considerable part of the country. They
thoroughly understood the situation. None knew better the weakness and
effeteness of the Government, and many were prepared to side with the
Mahdi. Elias Pasha was the chief amongst these malcontents, and detested
Ahmed Bey Dafalla, who was a great friend of Mohammed Pasha Said. He was
well aware that these two would, in the event of the defeat of the
rebels, do him all the harm they could. Elias Pasha, therefore, employed
himself actively in secretly collecting adherents for the Mahdi. Many of
the less wealthy merchants anticipated better times should the
Government be overthrown, whilst there were not a few who, though
disinclined to the Mahdi, were driven to espouse his cause by the fear
that, should he prove successful, their wives and property would fall
into the hands of his victorious followers.

As for the religious Sheikhs, this movement was one which held out the
highest prospects of promotion for them. They prided themselves that one
of their number had successfully dared to proclaim himself a Mahdi, and
they looked to the time when he or his sons should drive out the hated
Turk, and rule the land. A few--only a very few--sensible people foresaw
the danger which would threaten the country should the Mahdi prove
successful, and these did all they could to prepare the Government for
the coming storm; but their numbers were too small to have any effect.

Elias Pasha now sent his son Omar to acquaint the Mahdi with the
situation, and to beg him to come forthwith to El Obeid; while Mohammed
Pasha Said, realising that this would undoubtedly be the next step, and
deluded with the idea that the people would be prepared to stand a siege
with him, began to dig an enormous ditch round the town, and, at the
suggestion of Ahmed Bey Dafalla, he put the Government buildings in a
state of defence, and built a parapet around them. His parsimonious
ideas, however, led him into a grave error. Instead of laying in large
stores of corn, which the merchants, seeking only their own interests,
were perfectly ready to provide, he refused to pay more than peace
prices. It was, in consequence, rapidly bought up at a higher rate by
those who were already beginning to feel the effects of the disturbed
state of the country; and so he lost the favourable moment to buy.

Meanwhile, massacres in the districts were of almost daily occurrence.
Tax-collectors, detached military posts, and Government officials fell
an easy prey to the bloodthirsty Arabs. The Bederia tribe attacked and
almost annihilated the inhabitants of Abu Haraz, which was a day's march
distant from El Obeid, and only a few men, women, and children succeeded
in reaching the capital; the rest were all killed or taken prisoners
during the flight along the waterless track. Young girls were, of
course, looked upon as valuable booty, and were given water by their
captors; but the older women suffered the most horrible mutilation. Arms
and legs were ruthlessly cut off merely to gain possession of the
bracelets and anklets they wore. A few days later, the town of Ashaf, in
northern Kordofan, was attacked and plundered by the Arabs, though a
defence was made by Nur Angara, who was living there at the time, and
who assisted Sanjak Mohammed Agha Japo, formerly one of Gordon's
kavasses. They were, however, eventually forced to retire on Bara. This
Japo was an old Kurdi, and during the retreat he performed prodigies of
valour. Collecting all the women and young girls in the centre of his
square, he bade them sing songs of victory, saying that such music drove
fear out of all hearts; and, making constant counter-attacks, he
succeeded in bringing almost all the fugitives in safety to Bara.

This town was now attacked, and the Arabs repulsed; but, collecting in
greater numbers under Sheikh Rahma, they completely invested it, and cut
off all supplies.

A mass of Arabs had also collected at Kashgeil; and against these
Mohammed Pasha Said despatched a battalion of regulars, who succeeded in
temporarily dispersing them; but, in doing so, the troops lost so
heavily that virtually it was little short of defeat; and, collecting
again, these Arabs attacked Birket, where the entire garrison of two
thousand men was put to the sword. A similar disaster overtook the
troops at Shatt, on the White Nile, where two hundred were massacred;
but their subsequent attack on Duem was repulsed, with a loss of two
thousand men.

Meanwhile, the emissaries sent by the Mahdi to the Gezira had not been
idle. The Gehéna, Agaliyin, Hawazma, and Hammada Arabs, under Abu Rof,
had attacked and invested Sennar; but the town had been subsequently
relieved by Sanjak Saleh Wad el Mek, who had been despatched thence with
a large force of Shaigia.

The town of Abu Haraz, on the Blue Nile, had been invested by Sherif
Ahmed Taha; and Giegler Pasha, who was acting Governor-General in place
of Rauf Pasha, had arrived in the neighbourhood, and had directed Melek
Yusef of the Shaigia to attack the rebels with an inferior force, which
was defeated. Melek Yusef, disdaining flight had got off his horse, and,
seating himself cross-legged on his farwa (sheepskin), had ordered one
of his slaves to kill him. Giegler had at once proceeded to Khartum,
and, procuring reinforcements, had returned and attacked Ahmed Taha,
who had been killed, and his head sent to Khartum. He had then cleared
the neighbourhood of Sennar of rebels without suffering any serious
loss. In spite, however, of these temporary successes, troubles
increased, and the Government daily received alarming accounts of the
disasters which had overtaken troops and inhabitants in various parts of
the country. In consequence, Abdel Kader Pasha had been despatched to
the Sudan as Governor-General. He had arrived at Khartum on 11th May,
1882, and had busily set to work to place the town in a state of
defence. These measures had some effect on the natives, and it was
evident to them that the Government intended to act resolutely; but, at
the same time, it was perfectly clear to them that these steps were not
merely precautionary, but were rendered absolutely necessary by the very
serious position of affairs. The arsenal and dockyard, ammunition
stores, magazines, and Government archives must be safeguarded against
all eventualities. Besides, one of the first acts of the new
Governor-General was to withdraw to Khartum a portion of the garrisons
of Gallabat, Senhit, and Gera, in which districts there was at present
complete tranquillity.

Meanwhile, Mohammed Ahmed fully realised that to kindle the smouldering
fire into a blazing flame his presence was absolutely necessary. He
therefore accepted Elias Pasha's invitation to come to El Obeid, and,
leaving his uncle, Mahmud Sherif, with a few followers, to look after
his wives and children in Jebel Masa, he descended into the plains, and
marched with his forces towards the wealthy capital of Kordofan.




CHAPTER V.

SPREAD OF THE REVOLT IN SOUTHERN DARFUR.

    I arrive at Dara--Despatch of an Officer to Shakka--Character of
    Zogal Bey--Return to El Fasher--Causes of my Unpopularity with
    the Officers--Disturbances at Om Shanga--The Southern Tribes
    join the Revolt--I make Dara my Headquarters--The Power of a
    Woman's Tongue--Immorality of the Maalia Tribe--Sheikh Madibbo
    threatens Shakka--Cowardly Conduct of Mansur Helmi--I proceed to
    his Assistance--I commence my Campaign against the Southern Arab
    Tribes--The Night Attack on Madibbo's Camp--Mansur Helmi's
    Cowardly Retreat from Shakka--He deserts his own Men--Courageous
    Conduct of Ali Agha Juma--I decide to retake Shakka at all
    Costs--Difficulty of enforcing my Orders.


When I quitted El Fasher for Dara, early in 1882, I was accompanied by
three hundred and fifty mounted men under Omar Wad Darho. This large
escort was quite unnecessary, but I thought it advisable to show the
Arabs that the Government had plenty of troops at its disposal to
suppress any trouble on their part.

On arrival at Dara I visited poor Emiliani's grave, and put up a stone
to his memory. Zogal Bey was administering affairs here as
Acting-Governor in his place, and the general aspect looked very
troubled. The southern Arab tribes--the Rizighat, Habbania, and
Maalia--were in revolt; they held constant meetings, in which it was
declared that Dervishes were flocking to the standards of the Mahdi, who
had been sent by God to raise the Faith, and remove the oppression and
tyranny of the hated officials; it was said that, armed merely with
sticks, they had gained victory after victory over the Government
troops. Emiliani, whom I had previously sent to Shakka to report on
affairs there, had been driven to distraction by the constant quarrels
between Madibbo and Egeil Wad el Jangawi of the Rizighat tribe, and had
ended by discharging Madibbo and replacing him by Munzel, who had
previously acted for many years as principal Sheikh. Madibbo, enraged at
this insult, had joined his own section, the Aulad Mohammed, who had
immigrated at that time towards the Bahr el Arab for pasture.

I now sent letters to both Madibbo and Egeil, ordering them to keep
their Arabs well in hand and stop these meetings which were being held,
and at the same time I instructed Madibbo to come and see me and talk
over his personal and tribal affairs. Just at the time I was despatching
these letters, news arrived that, owing to the disturbed state of
Shakka, the forty soldiers previously sent by Emiliani to assist the
Sheikh in collecting the taxes had been obliged to turn back, and were
now within two days' march of Dara. I therefore ordered Mansur Effendi
Helmi to proceed at once to restore order with two hundred and fifty
regulars and twenty-five horsemen, and instructed Ismail Wad Barnu, who,
it will be remembered, had been the intermediary between Gessi and
Suleiman Zubeir, to accompany him. At the same time I sent word to
Abakr, Sultan of the Begu tribe, who was thoroughly loyal, and
particularly well acquainted with the Rizighat country, to join the
expedition.

My instructions to Mansur Helmi were to act leniently with the Arabs,
but at the same time with such discretion that the interests of the
Government should not suffer. I gave him, however, full powers to put
down disturbances by force if other means failed. He marched off _via_
Kalaka, whilst I returned forthwith to El Fasher to collect the various
detachments of troops which were out in the district gathering taxes,
and prepare for all eventualities. Before leaving Dara, I had a long and
serious interview with Zogal. I had known this man well when I had been
Governor here, and it had come to my ears that he and Omar Wad Darho had
had several talks about the Mahdi and his doings, and had agreed that
should he continue to be victorious they would join him. These two men
were the richest officials in Darfur, and exercised great influence in
the country: their secession would have been very serious; I therefore
thought my best plan was to show them great friendliness, and do all
that was possible to avoid a breach occurring between us. In my
conversation with him I therefore made no allusion to his meetings with
Darho, but confined myself to pointing out that he, being a relative of
the Mahdi and at the same time a high Government official, it behoved
him to support lawfully constituted authority to his utmost. I reminded
him that he had been born in Darfur and had been only an ordinary
merchant, but that Government had recognised his capacity and had given
him one position after another, which he certainly could not hope his
cousin the Mahdi would be able to confer on him. I urged him not to be
deluded by the exaggerated rumours he heard of the Mahdi's prestige, and
above all begged him to put aside all idea of his being credited with a
Divine mission. Sooner or later, I said, the Government must be
victorious, and all those who had failed to support it in times of
difficulty must expect severe punishment. I urged him to think of his
women and children, who, by an ill-considered and thoughtless step on
his part, might be placed in great difficulties; and I wound up by
saying that I did not speak to him now as his official superior, but as
to a friend who had worked together with me for long, and whose true
interests I had at heart.

I think Zogal was favourably impressed by what I said; he admitted that
as a relative of the Mahdi he could not help being struck by all that
was going on, but at the same time he was most grateful for the favours
bestowed on him by Government, and he would seize every opportunity to
prove that he was truly loyal. When I asked him point blank whether he
was in personal communication with the Mahdi, he denied it, but showed
me letters which the Mahdi had written to several of the religious
Sheikhs, inciting them to revolt, which he had intercepted. On inquiry,
I found that the bearer of these letters had confessed to the battalion
commander that he had received them from the Mahdi for distribution; I
therefore ordered him to be tried by court-martial (the country being
now subject to martial law). He was condemned to be shot, and in the
interests of discipline I ordered the sentence to be carried out.

In saying good-bye to the officers and officials, I pointed out the
absolute necessity of strict attention to their duties, and told them I
would return from El Fasher as soon as possible; and, leaving the
mounted troops in Dara, I departed for the capital, where I arrived
after three days' march. The first news received was that the
telegraph-station at Foga had been destroyed by the Homr Arabs, that the
entire country in the neighbourhood of Om Shanga was unsettled, and that
several people who were out in these districts collecting wood had been
captured and enslaved by the Arabs.

Om Shanga was an important trade centre between El Obeid and El Fasher;
it had a garrison of only sixty men, and as it contained some wealth,
the Arabs would in all likelihood attack it. I therefore ordered Major
Hussein Effendi Maher to proceed thither with reinforcements of two
hundred men and fortify the place, and I also instructed Omar Wad Darho
to advance towards it with three hundred horsemen, but at the same time
I particularly warned him that the object of this expedition was to
chastise the Arabs, and that I considered their conduct sufficiently bad
to warrant their being freely plundered. I thoroughly understood Darho's
disposition, and I was most anxious to create hostility between him and
his men and the Arabs, who were now the firm adherents of the Mahdi, and
thus by every means in my power prevent a coalition between them, which
was the principal danger I feared.

The postal system was now completely interrupted, and I was obliged to
send any communications to El Obeid and Khartum concealed in
hollowed-out lance-staves, between the soles of boots or sandals, or
sewn into the bearer's clothing. The extra ammunition I had ordered
when in Khartum had, owing to the negligence of the officials, been
delayed; it had reached El Obeid late, and now, the roads being cut, it
could be sent no further. The man despatched in charge of this
ammunition was a certain Mohammed Pasha Wad el Imam, the wealthiest
merchant in Darfur, whom Gordon had turned out of the country, together
with his brothers, for malpractices; and no sooner did he arrive at El
Obeid than he joined the Mahdi. Also of the four hundred cavalry, mostly
Turks and Egyptians, under the command of Mohammed Agha Abu Bala,
destined for Darfur, one hundred only had been sent on, and the
remainder were retained at El Obeid. I had therefore to make up my mind
to do the best I could with the forces originally at my disposal in
Darfur.

From the beginning I had enforced very strict discipline, and in
consequence was not popular amongst the officers; they were inclined to
pay little attention to the training of their men, and much preferred
being sent to collect taxes, which, for them, was a very lucrative
employment. In garrison they occupied themselves principally in building
their houses and laying out their gardens, for which work they utilised
the men under their command. I had at once put a stop to all this, and
they had in consequence sent a petition to Cairo, signed by almost all
of them, complaining that I was in the habit of removing powder from the
magazines, that I taxed their houses and gardens, and had appointed as
police inspector a Turkish sergeant in place of the officer I had
discharged. But when the reply came from Cairo to say that as
Governor-General of Darfur I was responsible for all such matters, and
had the authority to do what I thought just and right, they found they
were powerless, and had to put as good a face as they could on what they
were pleased to call my innovations.

Meanwhile Major Hussein Maher and Omar Wad Darho sent in messages that
the rebels were collected near Om Shanga and I at once despatched orders
to them to attack.

From Dara I learnt that Madibbo on receiving my letter had refused to
come, and had gone off to the Mahdi at Gedir instead; Egeil, who was
with his cattle on the Bahr el Arab, also refused to come. Moreover, a
certain Thiran of the Rizighat tribe and a relative of Madibbo, who had
formerly been employed as a Government tax-collector, had murdered in
cold blood two soldiers who happened to have gone to him; he had also
attempted to seize by force some of Sultan Begu's cattle, but had been
wounded in the fray, taken prisoner, and sent to El Fasher for trial. He
was found guilty, and I ordered his execution in the public
market-place.

There was now no doubt that all the southern tribes were in a state of
active revolt, and had every intention of joining the Mahdi; I therefore
thought my headquarters should now be at Dara; so, taking two hundred
infantry and seventy-five of the newly arrived cavalry, I proceeded
thither. On my arrival I heard some interesting details regarding the
progress of Mansur Helmi's expedition. It appeared that on his way he
had come across the Om Sureir section of the Rizighat tribe, who had
been implicated in a number of raids, had stolen a quantity of cattle,
and had shown themselves generally hostile to Government. Mansur had
seized the Sheikhs; but the latter had offered him a large bribe, which
he had unhesitatingly accepted, and in consequence had released them,
and returned them the greater part of their cattle. On his arrival at
Shakka he had been attacked by some Rizighat and Maalia Arabs, and
though he had driven them off with ease, he had lost Ali Agha Kanké,
Omar Wad Darho's uncle, a most courageous man. He now officially
informed me that an extensive revolt on the part of the Arabs was out of
the question, and they were quite ready to serve the Government loyally,
if they received a full pardon for past offences.

An incident, however, had occurred which, though in itself
insignificant, led to very serious consequences. I previously mentioned
that on my way to Khartum I had been met by Sheikh Ali Wad Hegeir, of
the Maalia tribe, who had accompanied me there. He had proved loyal and
faithful to the Government, and I had appointed him chief of the
southern Maalia Arabs. Hearing that a meeting of the Rizighat Arabs
under Sheikh Belal Nagur, with a view to joining the Mahdi, was about to
be held, he resolved to attend the meeting and arrest this
sedition-monger. Accompanied by his father-in-law and a few of his
friends, he presented himself at the meeting, and, seeing some of his
own tribe amongst the number, he called on them to separate themselves
from the rest and come to him. His summons was left unheeded, and a
disturbance took place, in which Hegeir and his friends, being far in
the minority, were severely handled, and barely escaped with their
lives. The news of the fray had, however, preceded them and had been
distorted, so that on reaching their home Hegeir was greeted by his wife
with the words, "Rageli hidlim wa Abuyi Rabta; Safar yomein sawuhum fi
Gabta" (My husband is a male ostrich, and my father a female ostrich;
they made a two days' journey in a moment). Belal Nagur, however,
pursued the fugitives, and, joined by the Maalia, attacked Hegeir's
house. The latter was urged by his friends to flee for protection to
Mansur at Shakka; but, smarting under his wife's sarcastic verses he
refused, saying, "I shall never fly to save my life. Better is it to
fall under the sword than to be laughed at by a woman." And, true to his
word, he defended himself against fearful odds until a spear split his
head in twain, and he sank down to die, repeating his creed with his
last breath. His father-in-law fell dead close to him; and his wife, who
was the cause of this sad catastrophe, and had thus lost husband and
father, was captured and enslaved.

Mansur Helmi, being now anxious to conclude arrangements with the
tribes, begged that I should come to Shakka, as, being the
representative of Government and well known to the Arabs, I would have
greater weight with them; he also expressed his opinion that a strong
fort should be made in Shakka, and manned with a couple of guns. As it
was most important to conclude terms with the Arabs, I resolved to
comply with his request, and, taking one hundred and fifty regulars,
twenty-five horsemen, and one gun, I started for Shakka.

Meanwhile, I had received news from Major Hussein Maher at Om Shanga
that the new fort was nearing completion; and he enclosed a report from
Omar Wad Darho, in which the latter stated that he had attacked the
Arabs collected at El Esefer, two days distant from Om Shanga, had
defeated them after a hard fight, and had captured a few horses. The
bearers of these letters, however, stated that he had captured a very
large number; and this news gave me considerable satisfaction, for I
knew that he would be now more anxious to fight against the rebels,
since he had the prospect of taking possession of captured loot. I at
once wrote back, congratulating him on his successful action, and
telling him to do what he liked with the horses; but at the same time I
gave him strict orders not to proceed further east than Serna, and
further south than El Esefer, both of which places were within the
Kordofan frontier. I also gave him permission to fill up any casualties
amongst his men by fresh recruits, if he could get them, provided he
could depend on their loyalty; and I told him that if he continued to
perform his duties satisfactorily I should not fail to recommend him to
Government for reward.

On arrival at Kalaka I was met by Mohammed Bey Abu Salama, one of the
northern Maalia Sheikhs, who had been given the title of Bey by Gordon,
and who was waiting to receive me with an escort of forty armed
Bazingers. He gave me the fullest information regarding the state of
affairs in various parts of the country, and I knew I could implicitly
rely on the statements of this faithful Government servant. The southern
Maalia tribes are perhaps the most drunken and immoral people of those
districts; they are held in the greatest contempt by the Rizighat,
Habbania, Messeria, and Homr Arabs, who are exceptionally moral and
abstemious, and who never touch intoxicating drinks. The following
anecdote relating to Sheikh Salama will best describe the peculiarities
of these Arabs: One day, happening to return home unexpectedly, he found
his sister had admitted her lover to his angareb. He had her instantly
put in chains; and when his friends expostulated with him for this
treatment, which in their estimation was excessively harsh for so
trivial an offence, he replied that he had no objection to his sister
having a lover, but he protested against her making her brother's
angareb the place of assignation, and thereby detract from his dignity
as Sheikh.

Abu Salama with his Bazingers and about fifty horsemen accompanied me as
far as Dem Madibbo, which was this Sheikh's usual summer resort; but it
was now completely deserted, with the exception of a few slaves, who ran
away at our approach. I camped within about a mile of this place, and
made a zariba, having resolved to remain here until I received news from
Mansur Helmi. I had not long to wait. He had told me that there was no
prospect of trouble with the Arabs, but that was when Madibbo was
absent; he had now returned from a visit to the Mahdi in Jebel Gedir,
laden with trophies and proofs of the success of the new prophet. He had
been present when Yusef Pasha Shellali had been annihilated, and he
brought with him quantities of arms, ammunition, horses, and female
slaves, with which the Mahdi had presented him; he had also received
from him a flag, which he had been told was accompanied by invisible
angels, who would lead him to victory wherever he went. Besides this, he
brought numbers of proclamations, which he distributed broadcast. His
tribe had no longer the slightest doubt that the Government troops had
been defeated, and he now summoned them to join in the Jehad. Obedient
to his call, the Rizighat tribes to the northeast and southeast of
Shakka flocked to the holy standard. But Egeil still stood aloof; he
could not forgive his quarrel with his rival, and resolved to remain
neutral.

In a few days Madibbo had collected a force sufficiently strong to
attack Mansur. The latter had made a zariba at Murrai, about half a
day's march from Shakka, and thither most of the merchants, with their
wives and families, had fled for protection. Early one Friday morning
Madibbo with his hosts approached the zariba, and Mansur, instead of
waiting to be attacked, foolishly sent out Rashed Agha with one hundred
and fifty regulars and two hundred of Ismail Wad Barnu's, Sultan
Abakr's, and the merchants' Bazingers,--the whole under Abder Rasul
Agha, who had just joined from Kalaka. He himself stayed behind in the
zariba with the rest of the troops. Rashed Agha advanced boldly without
any scouts to the place where Madibbo was supposed to be, and the
latter, dividing his men into three sections, ordered them to conceal
themselves in the depressions of the ground and in the thick grass. The
luckless troops saw too late the trap that had been laid for them. On a
given signal the enemy attacked them in flank; they had only time to
fire one volley, and the Arabs were amongst them. A pitiless massacre
ensued. Sultan Abakr and Abder Rasul alone escaped, through the
fleetness of their horses, back to the zariba, and all the rest
perished.

Mansur Helmi, terrified at this sudden disaster, now completely lost
hope; but Wad Barnu and Abakr encouraged the troops not to despair, with
the result that when the victorious Madibbo attacked the zariba he was
driven off with considerable loss. A messenger despatched by Mansur
under cover of darkness, brought me the sad news of the catastrophe. In
his alarm he had greatly exaggerated Madibbo's strength, and, consulting
two of my most trusted officers, we decided that the best plan would be
to send one hundred and fifty men and the gun to Murrai, while the
remainder of the troops should proceed to Salama Bey's settlement,
whither reinforcements from Dara would be instantly despatched, and from
which place an advance on Murrai could then be made.

Madibbo, who had originally a few hundred rifles, had now captured three
hundred more, as well as a quantity of ammunition. I had at my disposal
only one hundred and fifty regulars, and, despatching these with the gun
and a further supply of ammunition loaded on twenty camels, to guard
which I detailed forty men, I left myself with only one hundred and ten
men. I wrote to Mansur, instructing him that on the arrival of these
reinforcements he should strengthen his position at Murrai as much as
possible, and await my arrival with the reinforcements ordered from
Dara. I thought it very unlikely that, having had one unfortunate
experience outside the zariba, he would again risk leaving it; besides,
I knew he had sufficient corn for some days. In my letter to Zogal,
ordering him to send more troops, I merely mentioned that Mansur had
suffered a slight reverse, as I greatly feared the effect of this bad
news in Dara; and I told him we were all well, and hoped to make a
successful attack without delay.

While at my zariba at Deain, Sheikh Afifi Wad Ahmed of the Habbania,
accompanied by Sheikhs Khamis Wad Nenya and Khudr Wad Girba, arrived
with twenty horsemen, and gave me assurances of their loyalty to
Government. The subsequent exploits of Afifi proved how true he was to
his word. He told me frankly that the whole country was unsettled, and
that almost all the tribes in the Kalaka neighbourhood wished to join
the Mahdi.

Madibbo's prestige was no doubt greatly increased by his success against
Mansur; constant contact for years with the Government had taught him a
great deal and he was as capable as he was brave. Learning that I was
encamped with only a small force at Deain, he very rightly decided to
leave Mansur alone and turn on me.

One evening just before sunset, when my men were out collecting wood, we
were suddenly attacked by Madibbo's horsemen, who were seen in hundreds
some distance off galloping towards the zariba. Sheikh Afifi instantly
saddled his horse, mounted, and, standing before me with poised spear,
shouted, "Arifni zen! ana thor et tokash, abu galb min adem, ana bidaur
el mot!" (You know me well! I am the pushing ox, the man who has a heart
of bone. I seek death!) and with this he dashed out of the zariba, and,
disappearing amongst the trees, returned in a few minutes, his spear
dripping with blood, and leading after him a captured horse; the two
other Sheikhs and their men also had a slight skirmish, losing one horse
and capturing another. In a few moments we heard some rifle shots, and
fearing that Madibbo's main body had arrived, I called the mounted Arabs
into the zariba and prepared for defence. However, I soon ascertained
that a small party only had come, and had taken up a position in a clump
of trees; I therefore sent fifty men to drive them out, and they
retired, leaving behind them three killed.

As it was now sunset, I summoned the Sheikhs and officers, and explained
that it was impossible to retreat now, as the camels carrying the
ammunition would probably get frightened if we were attacked in the
dark, and we should run the risk of losing them. It was better, I said,
to wait till daylight, when we should in all probability be attacked,
and that in view of Madibbo's great superiority in numbers it was
advisable for us to remain entirely on the defensive, and await a
favourable opportunity to retire on Dara. "Under these circumstances," I
said, "we shall not require the horses. Do you, therefore, Afifi, and
your men leave us under cover of darkness, and return to your country,
which you should be able to reach in safety. You will be more use to us
there than cooped up in this zariba." After a short pause, Afifi
replied, "My life is in God's hands, and man cannot escape his destiny.
If it is God's will that I should die here to-morrow, so be it; but this
might equally happen on my way back, for God is almighty. I think it a
shame to leave you, and I prefer death to a life of shame. This is my
opinion, and I have spoken it." No sooner had Afifi concluded, than the
Habbania Arabs, in one voice, shouted that they were all of the same
opinion; and such a noise did they make that I was obliged to tell them
the enemy would probably hear them. Being quite unable to make them
change their minds, I agreed that they should remain till the following
day. I now ordered the ditch inside the zariba to be deepened, to give
more cover from the bullets, and the men worked hard all night. At dawn
the next morning, the outposts reported a man in the distance waving a
white flag, and on giving orders that he should be allowed to approach,
I found him to be Sheikh Ishak el Abd, of the Rizighat tribe, and I went
outside the zariba to confer with him. Saluting, he handed me a letter
from Madibbo, which my Arabic clerk now read to me; it was very long and
bombastic, but not unfriendly in tone. He summoned me to submit, gave a
full account of the defeat and death of Yusef Pasha Shellali, of which
he himself had been an eye-witness, and then told me how he had been
victorious over Mansur Helmi. He urged me, on his word as a former
official and my friend, to believe in the truth of what he said, and
then declared that, having seen the Mahdi with his own eyes, he had now
not the smallest doubt that he was a man sent from God, and that all who
resisted him must perish miserably.

Turning to my old friend Ishak, I laughingly asked him what he thought
about it. "Master," said he, "I have eaten bread and salt with you, and
therefore I will not deceive you: the whole country is in revolt, and
every one says he is the true Mahdi. If you intend to submit to Madibbo,
I can guarantee that you need have nothing to fear." "Never!" was my
short reply. "I shall never lay down my arms to an Arab. Go to Madibbo,
and tell him that battle must decide between us!" "Master," answered
Ishak, "I will not deceive you; every word I have said is true. I,
personally, shall not fight against you; but my tribe is no longer under
control." "It is all the same to me," I replied, "whether you fight
against me or not; one man alone cannot make much difference one way or
the other." I then shook hands with him, and bade him good-bye. Pressing
my hand, he said, "If one day I am forced to fight you, I will let you
know," and, mounting his horse, he was in a few minutes out of sight.

Returning to the zariba, I now made all preparations for the impending
struggle. Amongst the refugees with us was a Greek named Alexander, who
had come to Shakka with two camel-loads of spirits and clothing, which
he expected to sell at an enormous profit at Shakka: also a certain Ali
Wad Fadlalla, with ten Bazingers, had joined us. He was a man I had long
since discharged from the mamurship of Kalaka; but he expected in this
way to re-establish himself in my good graces. Seeing the plight we were
in, these two worthies did nothing but bemoan the ill luck which had
brought them to my zariba.

Scarcely two hours had elapsed since Ishak had left, when, through my
field-glasses I saw the enemy advancing. I at once sounded the "alarm,"
and every one went to his post. The attack came from the northwest,
where there was a small wood which gave considerable cover. In the
centre of our zariba was a mound, on the top of which I placed an old
bench found in one of Madibbo's huts, and which an Egyptian had turned
into a chair. Seated in this position, I obtained a good view of the
surrounding country, as well as of all that was going on in the zariba.
The enemy now advanced within rifle-range, and the bullets began to
whistle about our ears. Getting up from the chair to give some order and
have a better view, a shot whizzed past and struck the back of the chair
in which I had just been sitting, and shivered it to pieces. After this,
I thought it advisable to take up a less-exposed position. The enemy's
fire now became very hot, but the men were well protected in the
trenches, and our loss was trifling. The horses and camels, however,
suffered severely; and feeling that if kept huddled up in the zariba we
might lose them all, I selected fifty men and, making a sortie from the
southern entrance, we turned west, and, opening suddenly on the enemy's
flank, inflicted considerable loss on him by a murderous cross-fire,
eventually driving him from the position. However, we did not secure
this success without paying for it. As far as I can recollect, we lost
twelve killed, including Fadlalla, and the Greek Alexander was amongst
the wounded.

Discussing the situation with my officers, it was decided that if the
enemy attacked us the following day and we succeeded in repulsing him,
we should be prepared to act offensively. We had some suspicion, too,
that Sheikh Abu Salama was inclined to revolt; his conduct had
undoubtedly altered considerably of late.

The day's experience had the effect of making the men deepen their
trenches and heighten their breastworks, thus affording better
protection to themselves and the animals. By the evening, thoroughly
tired out, most of them had dropped off to sleep, and we anticipated a
quiet night. But at about eleven o'clock we were startled by a brisk
rifle-fire. Fortunately it was a very dark night, and the fire was
ill-directed. So I ordered the men not to reply, and in consequence it
slackened, and eventually ceased altogether.

Summoning Sheikh Afifi, I now asked him to send out some of his men to
discover Madibbo's position, promising them they would be well rewarded
if they brought back reliable information. In about two hours they
returned, and reported that Madibbo was in his village with his
Bazingers, while the Arabs were encamped to the south and west of it.
They were in considerable force, but had taken no precautions for
defence, and our spies, who had crept up quite close to their
camp-fires, had overheard them laughing and joking at our not having
replied to their fire, saying we must have been too frightened to do so.

Waiting for half an hour, I called up seventy men, and told them, before
the officers, I wanted them to surprise Madibbo's camp; that if we
fought an action in the open against superior numbers, we should
probably lose heavily; but we had now ascertained the Arabs were quite
unprepared, and a sudden night attack might completely demoralise them,
and give us a chance of returning to Dara for reinforcements. The plan
was thoroughly approved, and all the officers at once volunteered to
join; but this I could not permit. So, leaving behind two officers,
four buglers, and seventy men, I quitted the zariba, accompanied by
Afifi, who refused to leave me. Suspecting that possibly some of Abu
Salama's people might get out and betray us, I gave the officers who
remained behind strict injunctions that during our absence no one should
leave the zariba, and that a most careful lookout should be kept; and
advancing cautiously, guided by the spies, in the space of about an hour
we found ourselves close to the enemy's camp. Our spies proved
thoroughly trusty; and, besides, I had previously travelled in these
districts, and knew the country well. Dividing up, therefore, into two
parties, I placed one under the command of a very brave officer named
Mohammed Agha Suleiman, a native of Bornu, and leading the other party
myself, we crept up to within six or seven hundred yards of the
unsuspecting foe, when I ordered the bugler to sound "Commence firing."
The confusion in the enemy's camp was now indescribable. Madibbo's
Bazingers, leaving their arms, fled. The horses, terrified by this
sudden commotion in the dead of night, became restive, broke their
ropes, and bolted in all directions, chased by the Arabs. In a few
minutes every one of Madibbo's huts was deserted, and in the distance
could be heard the sounds of the terrified crowds, fleeing from our
little band of seventy men. We had been completely successful, and it
took Madibbo some days before he could collect his men again. I burnt
his village, and the blazing flames, shooting to the sky, lighted up the
deserted camp. Only two of my men had been wounded by thrown spears. We
captured a large number of saddles, which I ordered to be thrown into
the flames, as well as a quantity of old guns and matchlocks; but we
kept the forty Remington rifles taken, and now marched back to the
zariba, where we had a most enthusiastic welcome from the others, who
had been awaiting our return with great anxiety.

I gave the order to move at sunrise the next morning. The entire
neighbourhood was deserted, and during our five hours' march to Bir
Delwei we met no one. Here, however, we were caught up by some Rizighat
horsemen, who had followed us with the evident intention of finding out
if we were really quitting the district. Afifi, catching sight of them,
was after them in a moment, and, severely wounding Madibbo's cousin, Isa
Feisal, he captured his horse. We now continued to march forward as
rapidly as possible, hoping soon to meet the reinforcements which should
have started by this time from Dara for the relief of Mansur Helmi. At
midnight we reached Kelekle, where I resolved to give the exhausted men
a good rest. Here, under the pretext of telling his tribe to drive their
cattle out of the Rizighat districts towards the north, Sheikh Abu
Salama left us; but as he did not return the next morning, and as it was
reported by some men I had sent out after him that he and his family,
taking all their property with them, had left for the south, I had no
doubt he had gone to join the rebels. Having still no news from Dara, I
did not deem it advisable to wait longer, so continued my march north,
and reached that town by noon the following day. I found the
reinforcements and ammunition all ready to leave, and as the men I had
brought back were tired, I determined to change them also, and return
with a completely fresh force to help Mansur Helmi; but to my surprise,
at daybreak the next morning, I received a letter from Ismail Wad Barnu,
saying that he and Mansur were on their way to Dara, and would arrive
the following day. This was to me most unsatisfactory news, for it meant
that my difficulties in re-occupying Shakka would be considerably
increased. The next morning they arrived, accompanied by a few slaves,
who were ready to drop down with fatigue. Calling up Mansur before a
council of officers, I asked him officially, in writing, why he quitted
his post without orders, and he replied that he was too tired to answer.
I then called on Ismail Wad Barnu for a full explanation, and he stated
as follows: "Having despatched the messenger to you with the news of our
disaster, we hourly expected you to arrive. When the messenger returned,
reporting that you were retiring on Dara for reinforcements, and that
Madibbo was on the point of attacking you, we gave way to despair. Our
corn was finished, and we had no means of procuring any more supplies.
We therefore made up our minds to take to flight." "But," said I, "where
are the camels carrying ammunition and rockets? and where are all the
merchants and their families who came to you for protection? There were
some hundreds of you; and now you are only fifteen." "We loaded the
ammunition and rockets on the camels," replied Mansur, nervously, "and
they and the merchants started the same time as we did; but we got
separated on the march." "What!" said I, in a tone of wonder, "how could
heavily laden camels become separated from horsemen? Only in one way:
they move slowly, and you have deserted them in your terror. How long
did you take to come here?" By this time Mansur had worked himself into
such a state of nervous excitement that he had become incoherent. I
therefore again called on Wad Barnu to complete this painful narrative.
"We left the zariba three days ago," said he. "Three days!" I said. "And
yet you say that the camels separated from you. It is a seven days'
march between Murrai and Dara. You are a civil official, Ismail, and
joined this expedition by my orders. You need not be afraid. Tell me
now, truthfully, why you left the others?" "Master," said Ismail, who
had by this time regained confidence, "when we heard that you were
waiting for reinforcements from Dara, we held a consultation, and
decided that, as we had only a small quantity of supplies left, we
should abandon the position and come here. Mansur Effendi, being our
chief, gave the order to march three hours before sunset. We loaded up
the camels, and, with the merchants, their wives and children, all left
the zariba together. The marching of so many of us made a great noise;
and fearing that the enemy would hear it, Mansur called me up, and
suggested that we should go on ahead, and that Ali Agha Guma, who was in
command of the fifty men escorting the ammunition, should follow on and
catch us up. At dawn the next morning we halted for some time, and at
length Abder Rasul Agha arrived, reporting that he too had got separated
from the caravan during the night. Master, where is the heart without
fear? As the merciful and almighty God had delivered us, so we believed
He would deliver the others; therefore we hurried on. Master, make
allowance for us. Remember that we lost relatives and slaves in the
battle, and that I am married and the father of children!"

Mansur listened to this confession in silence. I frequently called upon
him to say anything which would justify his conduct; but his only excuse
was that the ammunition column did not arrive at the appointed
rendezvous, and that as he himself had so few men, he did not think it
wise to go in search of them, and had therefore continued his march. I
now directed the senior officer present to take Mansur's sword from him,
to keep him in close arrest at the headquarter guard, and to take down
in writing a full deposition of what had occurred.

Meanwhile I sent off spies in all directions to discover the whereabouts
of the column, and for the moment abandoned all idea of an expedition to
Shakka. Seven days later I received the joyful news that the column had
safely arrived at Toweisha with almost all the merchants and their
families, and as, up to the present, no disturbances had taken place in
that district, the latter had asked permission to remain there. Three
days afterwards the column was reported to be within an hour's march of
Dara. I therefore rode out at the head of the whole garrison to meet
them, and marched them in with all honours. On their arrival they were
publicly entertained, and I gave all the non-commissioned officers a
step, and promoted fifteen of them, who were specially recommended by
Ali Agha Guma, to the rank of officer. Ali Agha now related the
following. "In accordance with Mansur Effendi's orders, we loaded up the
camels and started; the merchants, with their women and children, who
had not been informed, now made a great commotion, and insisted on
coming with us; the poor people well knew that if they remained behind
they could expect no mercy from the Arabs. Mansur Effendi, alarmed at
the noise, and fearing that the enemy might come down on us, was chiefly
concerned about the safety of his own person, and therefore started off,
directing me to catch him up the following morning. Now, how was it
possible for me in a bushy, trackless region, with heavily laden camels,
to catch up a man flying on a horse? I hurriedly collected the soldiers
and the merchants, and told them that I proposed to march towards Goz el
Maalia, and in this roundabout way, please God, we should avoid the
enemy and reach home safely. I knew that the country round Goz el Maalia
was open, and that if attacked we should be able to defend ourselves
better than in the enclosed country through which we were now marching.
I knew that we were quite strong enough to force our way through the
Maalia tribe, and therefore, repeating the 'Fatha' [the Moslem creed]
and asking the Almighty to protect us, we marched in a northeasterly
direction, camels and women in the centre. Thank God, the darkness of
the night helped us to pass through the enemy's country unobserved, and
by sunrise we had reached the southwestern boundary of the Maalia
country. Here we made a short halt, but did not dare to stay long. We
made the merchants' wives act as camel-drivers, and those who were ill
and the children we mounted on camel-back on the top of the
ammunition-boxes; in this way we managed to have about one hundred men
with rifles as escort. We had sufficient corn for three or four days,
and instead of water we quenched our thirst with the juice of the
water-melons, which grew in abundance. At noon we were attacked by some
Rizighat horsemen who had been joined by some Maalia; but by God's help,
who forsakes not those in distress and danger, we drove them off,
killing a few horses and men. Although utterly exhausted, we did not
dare to halt till sunset; and, surrounding ourselves with a light
zariba, we passed a quiet night, and started off again at sunrise the
next morning. The enemy, being joined by some revolted villagers, again
attacked us; but God gave us strength and courage, and we drove them
off, and at length, after eight days' hard marching, we reached Toweisha
safe and sound. The merchants and their wives and children left us there
full of gratitude, and we thank the merciful God who has brought us
unhurt out of all these dangers."

"I also thank God," said I, "that you are safe; I was greatly concerned
about you. But tell me how goes it at Toweisha? How is the chief of the
district, Abo Bey el Bartawi?" "He himself seems loyal to Government,"
he replied, "but his people have begun to get disaffected, and sooner or
later, if good news is not received from Kordofan, he will join the
rebels; at present, however, the Om Shanga garrison keeps him quiet."

I now publicly thanked Ali Agha Guma for his valuable services and for
his forethought and bravery, and ordered his promotion from second to
first lieutenant, writing to Cairo for confirmation. This plucky officer
was a native of the Tagalla mountains, and had been trained as a soldier
in Cairo.

As there was no officer of Mansur Helmi's rank in Dara, I sent him under
escort to Fasher, with instructions to Said Bey Guma to deal with his
case in accordance with the written depositions; at the same time I told
him to send me two hundred infantry, also some ammunition and lead.

Meanwhile, I ascertained that Madibbo had returned to Deain, rebuilt his
village, and concluded an offensive and defensive alliance with Sheikh
Abu Salama. On the day I arrived in Dara I sent back the faithful and
brave Afifi to Kalaka. He was very anxious not to go; but I told him
that should his tribe revolt, he had permission to bring his wife and
children to Dara; in the meantime he had better be with his people.

In order to dissipate any idea on the part of the rebels that I intended
to sit down quietly and watch events, I despatched Ali Effendi Esmet
with one hundred and eighty regulars to Hashaba, two days' march south
of Dara,--one of Abu Salama's villages,--with orders to wait there till
I had collected my forces. The news from the Om Shanga district was
satisfactory. Omar Wad Darho, with his four hundred horsemen, succeeded
in keeping the Arabs under; he had several skirmishes, and once or twice
some losses, but on the whole he was successful. The continual strides
now made by the revolt in Kordofan made postal communication more
difficult than ever; all I could do was to send short cypher messages,
very few of which ever reached their destination. One of my principal
objects in keeping Darho at Om Shanga was that, in the event of the
troops in Kordofan being successful, he could advance east, and,
combining with them, reopen the post-road.

Zogal Bey, who was with me in Dara at this period, was performing his
duties in a satisfactory manner. He was opposed to my getting
reinforcements from El Fasher, saying I need not be so mistrustful;
however, there was no doubt he had received letters from his relative,
the Mahdi, but I do not think he answered them in writing: in fact,
affairs in Darfur were not altogether unsatisfactory, and he was now
certainly more careful and attentive to his duties.

During my stay here I did my utmost to collect Bazingers, and by
promises to the Gellabas I succeeded in getting many of them to place
their servants at the disposal of the Government. I also utilised the
services of an old officer named Abdel Kader Wad Asi, who had formerly
commanded the irregular cavalry in Dara, to collect as many horses as he
could; and in a few days he got together upwards of one hundred and
fifty. Meanwhile I had written to Sultan Abakr el Begawi--head-Sheikh of
Berket--and to the Messeria and other tribes, to get ready and follow me
to Shakka. Some of these readily obeyed the call; and as to those who
hesitated, I did all I could, by working up tribal jealousies, to
increase the ill-feeling between them and our enemies. Abder Rasul Agha,
who had fled from Murrai with Mansur Helmi, I had imprisoned; but as he
had on previous occasions shown capacity, and as my available officers
were getting scarce, I released him, and put him in command of the
Bazingers who were to remain behind in Dara, and told him to do all he
could to procure more. Most of the arms in store at Dara were old
double-barrelled guns, flintlocks, and a few damaged Remingtons; these I
had roughly repaired, and distributed to the Bazinger recruits. I had
not much ammunition, and urgently ordered more to be sent from El
Fasher. About a fortnight later, one hundred regulars duly arrived under
Said Bey el Fula, a brave Sudanese, who brought me letters from Said Bey
Guma. In these, my representative at the capital informed me that he
could not send the ammunition, as he had no camels, and if he took them
by force from the people, he feared the result; as soon as he could
procure camels he would send me the ammunition and the other hundred
men. In reply to this I wrote back somewhat shortly that the despatch of
the ammunition was an urgent necessity, and that if he could not obtain
the camels from the Arabs, he must get them from the officers and
employés on payment; I told him that I had to do this in Dara, as there
were no other camels available in southern Darfur. It was perfectly
clear to me that orders sent to El Fasher were not carried out with
expedition. It was useless to waste more time; I therefore quitted
Dara,--leaving behind an adequate garrison,--and set off for Hashaba,
where it had been arranged the various friendly tribes would meet me.




CHAPTER VI.

THE SIEGE AND FALL OF EL OBEID.

    Said Pasha, Governor-General of Kordofan, prepares to defend El
    Obeid--The Mahdi attacks the Town, but is repulsed with Great
    Loss--The Missionaries at Delen fall into the Mahdi's Hands--The
    Siege and Fall of Bara--The Horrors of the Siege of El
    Obeid--Said Pasha is forced to surrender--His Interview with the
    Mahdi--The Search for Treasure--The Mahdi's Miracles--Effect of
    the Fall of El Obeid on the General Situation.


Inspired by his numerous victories, and encouraged by Elias Pasha's
urgent appeal that he should proceed to El Obeid, the Mahdi left Gedir,
and, joined by thousands upon thousands of fanatical Arabs and
slave-hunters, he advanced to Kaba, a village on the outskirts of the
town.

From here he despatched horsemen to reconnoitre and summon all those who
were willing to join his banners. He also wrote to Mohammed Pasha Said,
calling on him to submit. His letter was read out before the officers;
and at the suggestion of Mohammed Bey Skander and the majority of the
officers the bearers of the letters were sentenced to be shot. Said
Pasha himself was averse to this decision, but eventually gave way and
confirmed the sentence, which was immediately carried out.

The secret emissaries were more successful; they had an easier task
amongst the local population many of whom really believed in the Mahdi,
and those who did not, well knew the weakness of the Government and the
very critical state of affairs. Besides, as I have already related, the
hostility of Elias Pasha to Said Pasha and Ahmed Bey Dafalla had the
effect of bringing over to the rebels the majority of the civil
officials and principal merchants,--consequently, in a few days the bulk
of the population moved bodily out of the town and joined the Mahdi.
The latter had previously written to them that they had only to shut up
their houses and leave all their property as it was, and when he entered
the town he would guarantee that nothing should be touched. These
injunctions they obeyed implicitly, taking with them, or burying in the
ground, their money only.

On Ahmed Bey's advice, Said Pasha had divided up the town in such a
manner that the evacuation of a large part of it by the merchants and
others would not seriously affect the question of its defence; and he at
once ordered the soldiers to collect all the corn they could find in the
houses and store it in the citadel,--an operation which was carried out
with considerable alacrity, and full advantage was taken of the occasion
to freely loot the dwellings of the trustful populace, who had counted
somewhat prematurely on the Mahdi's protective powers. Minni, of the
Gowama Arabs, also freely pillaged the deserted town.

Mohammed Ahmed now spared no effort to rouse the fanatical spirit of the
masses by whom he was surrounded. He preached day and night to a rapt
audience on the heavenly joys in store for all those who joined the
Jehad, and on Friday morning, September the 8th, this seething mass of
human beings, armed only with swords and spears, rolled like the waves
of the sea towards the town. All the arms taken in Rashed's and
Shellali's expeditions had been left behind at Jebel Gedir, and the
rifle fire of the defenders soon began to play with deadly effect on the
crowd, who, utterly undeterred, and seeking only for blood and plunder,
continued their advance, swarming into the ditches and up the parapet,
and entering the deserted town. At this critical moment Major Nesim
Effendi told his bugler to sound the advance; and the signal being taken
up by the other buglers, the soldiers, clambering up on to the tops of
the walls and houses, brought a murderous fire to bear on the
assailants. Slowly the surging mass, under this hail of lead, was driven
back, leaving behind them thousands of killed and wounded. Once more
they rallied and attempted again to storm; but again were they driven
back with still greater slaughter, till at length the survivors retired
out of range, and the gallant garrison was completely victorious.

In this assault the Mahdi's brother Mohammed, Khalifa Abdullahi's
brother Yusef, the Kadi, and a host of Emirs were killed. The Mahdi
himself, during the attack, took up a position out of range, behind a
small house; and had Said Pasha taken Ahmed Bey Dafalla's advice to
pursue after the Dervishes had been routed, in all probability he would
have been taken, and the subsequent bloodshed and horrors thus avoided.

But Said Pasha contented himself with this temporary success, believing
that the Mahdi was too crushed to again attempt an attack, and that this
defeat would probably destroy his influence. The Mahdi's relatives and
near friends also realised this, and on their advice he removed his camp
to Gianzara, a hill lying beyond range to the northeast of the town; and
in this position maintained an open investment, while awaiting the
arrival of the arms and ammunition for which he had sent to Jebel Gedir.

The mission station at Delen, which had been founded some eight years
before, and which was guarded by eighty men of the slave guard, had long
been in a critical position. Whilst on his way to El Obeid, the Mahdi
had sent one of his adherents, Mek Omar, with instructions either to
capture or kill all persons found there. The missionary Fathers, Joseph
Ohrwalder and Luigi Bonomi, had arranged to flee with the troops and all
the mission to Fashoda; but their plan fell through, owing to the
cowardice of the captain commanding the troops. They were eventually
obliged to submit, were robbed of all they had, and were marched as
prisoners to El Obeid. Here the Mahdi and Khalifa Abdullahi made every
effort to convert them and the sisters who were with them; but they
remained firm. The following day they were taken, accompanied by
thousands of howling Dervishes, to an open space where a great review
was held. After momentarily expecting death, they were at length told
their lives were spared, and they were handed over to the care of a
Syrian named George Stambuli, who had joined the Mahdi from El Obeid.

At this time a most wonderful comet appeared, which was taken by the
Sudanese as a sign from Heaven that the Government was about to be
overthrown, and that the true Mahdi had appeared on earth.

An expedition sent under Ali Bey Lutfi to relieve Bara and El Obeid,
when on the march and suffering from thirst, was attacked by the Gowama
Arabs under Fiki Rahma, and of the two thousand men of which it was
composed, two hundred only succeeded in escaping to Bara. Soon after
this Tayara was attacked, and its little garrison, after resisting
manfully, was obliged to submit at the end of September.

Bara fell next, after a long and well-sustained siege. The garrison had
inflicted considerable loss on the rebels, but a fire had broken out and
burnt up almost all the corn. Hunger and disease had done their work,
and, hopeless of any succour, Surur Effendi, the commandant, Nur Angara,
and Mohammed Agha Japo, at the urgent request of the garrison, were
forced to submit early in January, 1883, to Abderrahman Wad en Nejumi,
and were conducted by him to Gianzara. On arrival here they received the
Mahdi's pardon, and Surur Effendi, who was an Abyssinian by birth, but a
particularly religious Moslem, was allowed by the Mahdi to have back a
portion of his confiscated property; Nur Angara, being a Dongolawi, was
also well received; and Japo, whose exploits during the retreat from
Ashaf had reached the Mahdi's ears, was given back one of his own
horses. The troops, who were all Blacks, were made over to Khalifa
Abdullahi, who subsequently transferred them to Hamdan Abu Anga, who was
made Emir of the force.

The astute Japo was not slow to show devotion to his new master, and
begged for his blessing and for permission to get married, as hitherto
he had lived a single life. The Mahdi, flattered that an old and
irreligious man like Japo should show such complete submissiveness to
his will, at once granted his request. A few days later, however, Japo
came before the Mahdi with a very sorrowful face, and told him that the
money he had given him for his marriage had been spent to no purpose, as
he had divorced his wife. "What!" said the Mahdi, "why should you have
done this? Is she not pretty, or has she a bad character?" "No," said
Japo, "she has a far more serious fault: when I tell her to say her
prayers, she refuses to do so; and a wife who does not pray is an
abomination to me." So delighted was the Mahdi with his supposed
conversion that he gave Japo a large sum of money to get married again,
and presented him with sufficient means to keep him from want for a long
time. Some years later, after the Mahdi's death, I met Mohammed Japo in
Omdurman, and I laughingly reminded him of this story. "Yes," said he,
"in spite of all the harm and evil done by the Mahdi, he was not, after
all, such a bad man,--one could get something out of him; but I pity the
man who relies on Khalifa Abdullahi's benevolence." Japo was quite
right.

The Mahdi celebrated the capture of Bara with a salute of one hundred
guns, and the unfortunate garrison of El Obeid, hearing the sounds,
thought that a relieving army was approaching; but when they learnt that
Bara had fallen, they became greatly disheartened. For months they had
been suffering all the horrors of famine; food had risen to fabulous
prices; no steps had been taken to lay in a stock of provisions, and
there was a great scarcity of corn. A month before the capitulation
dukhn had risen to four hundred dollars the ardeb; only the most wealthy
could supply themselves with a little meat. The price of a camel rose to
fifteen hundred dollars, a chicken might be had for thirty or forty
dollars, and an egg for a dollar to a dollar and a half. But my comrades
in captivity, Fathers Ohrwalder and Rosignoli, have already described
the horrors of that long and terrible time, and I need not repeat them
here; suffice it to say that after a five months' siege, during which
the most terrible privations were endured, and in which a very large
proportion of the remaining population and garrison died of starvation,
Mohammed Pasha Said was at last forced to capitulate. He wished to blow
up the powder magazine; but the officers begged that their wives and
children might be spared, and he was obliged to give way. He therefore
wrote to the Mahdi that he was prepared to surrender the town. The Mahdi
replied that he and his officers need have no fear, and the following
morning sent a deputation of leading merchants, under Mohammed Wad el
Areik to Said Pasha, with instructions that he, the superior officers of
the garrison, and the chief merchants should present themselves before
him. The deputation had brought with them jibbas (the patched shirt
adopted as a uniform by the followers of the Mahdi), which had now to be
worn, and, mounting on horses, the sad cavalcade, led by Said Pasha,
filed out of the fort which they had defended so long and bravely. With
him were Mohammed Bey Skander, the commandant, Major Nesim Effendi,
Ahmed Bey Dafalla, Mohammed Bey Yasin, and several other officers.
Seated on his angareb, on which a goat's skin was spread, the Mahdi
received them kindly, gave them his hand to be kissed, and pardoned
them. He told them that he of course understood they had been deceived
in regard to him, having doubted his Divine mission; but that he forgave
them, and now required them to take the solemn oath of allegiance, and
complete submission to him and the cause. This formality over, he gave
them dates and water, and urged them to renounce the pleasures of this
world, and think only of the world to come. Turning to Said Pasha, he
then said: "I do not blame you as a Turk for having done all you could
to defend the post confided to you; but you did not do well to kill my
messengers, for it is not right that messengers should be punished."
Before Said Pasha could reply, Skander Bey quickly answered, "Master and
Mahdi, Said Pasha did not do this, but it was I, in my capacity as
commandant of the fort, who ordered the execution, as I considered them
rebels, and in this I did not do well, as you truly say." "I did not
mean by my question to ask you to justify yourself," said the Mahdi. "My
messengers have obtained what they most desired; when they took the
letters from me they sought the death of martyrs, and their wish was
fulfilled. The merciful God has granted them their hearts' desire, and
now they are in the enjoyment of all the pleasures of Paradise. May God
grant that we may follow in their footsteps."

During this conversation, according to a plan prepared beforehand, Abu
Anga and his men had occupied the fort, powder-magazine, and Government
buildings, whilst the Emirs installed themselves in the officers'
quarters. The Mahdi now told Wad el Areik, who happened to be a personal
friend of Said Pasha, to take him and his officers back to their houses;
but on their return they found them occupied, and were given to
understand that their property had now been confiscated. Soon afterwards
the Mahdi himself entered the town to inspect it, and ordered the
garrison to quit the entrenchments. The women and children, who had so
patiently waited for relief, were now ordered out to the Mahdi's camp,
and were allowed to take nothing with them. Even the women were searched
to the skin, in a most revolting manner, and anything found was
instantly taken off to the Beit el Mal (Mahdi's treasury), where the
property was subsequently distributed amongst the Emirs and other high
personages. In searching for gold and treasure the most heart-rending
scenes were enacted, and weeping and wailing was heard on all sides, as
the unfortunates were flogged to make them disgorge.

Said Pasha himself was called upon by Ahmed Wad Suleiman, the Mahdi's
Emin Beit el Mal (or treasurer), to hand over all his money; but he
replied that he had none. It was well known that he was a very wealthy
man, but he obstinately denied he had anything. When the Mahdi heard
this, he instructed Wad Suleiman to make every inquiry of Said Pasha's
servants; and while he was occupied in doing this, the Mahdi continued
conversing with Said Pasha on the precepts of religion, and frequently
asked him, before the assembled masses, why he refused to disclose the
hiding-place of his treasure, and Said Pasha as persistently denied that
he had any money whatever. In this way some time passed, and at length
Wad Suleiman, who had meanwhile succeeded in getting one of the female
servants to admit that her master had concealed the treasure in the
wall, returned to the Mahdi, and whispered in his ear that they had
found it. The latter, beckoning him to sit down, continued to talk of
the vanities of this world, and the great necessity of renouncing them;
and then, turning suddenly to Said Pasha, he said, "You swore a most
solemn oath of allegiance; why, then, do you refuse to say where your
money is? Money is the root of all evil. Do you now expect to gather
more riches?" "Oh, sire," replied Said Pasha, "I have neither money made
honestly, nor money made dishonestly; do with me what you like." "Do you
take me for an ordinary man?" replied the Mahdi. "Do you not understand
that I am truly the 'Mahdi el Muntazer,' and that the Prophet has
revealed to me the hiding-place of your treasure, which you have
concealed in the wall of your house? Go, Ahmed Wad Suleiman, to his
house. Enter his room, and on the left side, near the door, remove the
plaster from the wall, and there you will find the Turk's treasure.
Bring it here." During Wad Suleiman's absence Said Pasha sat
disconsolately, close to the Mahdi, frowning deeply. He knew his
treasure had been discovered, but he was too proud to admit that he had
told an untruth, and he refused to join in the conversation. In a few
minutes Suleiman returned, dragging behind him a large tin box, which he
placed before the Mahdi, who opened it, and found it full of gold,
packed up in small bags. Over £7,000 was counted out. "Mohammed Said,"
said the Mahdi, "you have told a lie; but I will forgive you. Ahmed,
take the money to the Beit el Mal, and distribute it amongst the poor
and needy." "You, who preach renunciation, have now got my money; do
what you like with it," said Said Pasha, turning on his heel and
marching off. The Mahdi, frowning darkly, muttered, "Di ma biyenfa
maana" (This man won't do for us).

Said Pasha turned to Ahmed Bey Dafalla, who had witnessed this scene,
and the Mahdi then addressed the latter in the following words: "Do not
follow in the footsteps of your old friend; he has an obstinate
disposition. Be honest and true to me, and I will give you all you
require. I secretly warned your brother Abdalla, but it was God's will
he should be overthrown. He blindly espoused the cause of God's enemies,
the Turks, and fought against me. The merciful God has destroyed them.
They were blown like chaff before the wind, and are now suffering all
the torments of hell-fire. Ahmed, save your soul while you may. Be
faithful to me, and when this life is over you shall enjoy the
everlasting pleasures of Paradise, and God will receive you into His
heavenly kingdom."

"Oh, Mahdi," said Ahmed Wad Dafalla, "I shall certainly not enter the
heaven in which my brother Abdalla is not." And with that he rose and
left the meeting.

Not a word did the Mahdi say, but it seemed to be quite understood that
his sentence had been pronounced. Signing to his followers that the
meeting was over, the latter now lost no time in complying with their
master's wishes, which, though unexpressed, they well understood. In a
few minutes it was known far and wide that the cursed Turk, Mohammed
Said, had refused to disclose the hiding-place of his treasure, but that
the Prophet had revealed it to the Mahdi. For some days tongues never
ceased talking of this wonderful miracle; and far and wide spread
Mohammed Ahmed's repute as the true Mahdi, sent from heaven to destroy
the hated Turk.

Directions were now given to supply Said Pasha, Ahmed Bey, Ali Sherif,
and the other officers with their beds, cooking-pots, clothing, and some
money, until the Prophet further revealed to the Mahdi what he should do
with his prisoners.

Mohammed Ahmed now occupied himself in writing letters and proclamations
to all parts of the Sudan, announcing the capture of El Obeid, and
enjoining on all the necessity of activity and endurance in the great
religious war which had now spread over the country. He called on the
faithful to renounce the pomps and vanities of this world, and to think
and work only for the joys to come. He also issued very stringent
regulations against smoking and drinking, imposing terrible penalties on
any one found wilfully disobeying. Special instructions were also issued
regarding marriage ceremonies, dowries, etc., and every effort was made
by the Mahdi to follow the example set by the Prophet in his early
wars.




CHAPTER VII.

VAIN EFFORTS TO STEM THE TIDE OF MAHDISM IN DARFUR.

    I advance on Shakka--The Battle of Om Waragat--Besieged in the
    Zariba--My Retreat on Dara through the Enemy's Country--The
    Illness and Death of Gottfried Rott--I despatch Secret
    Emissaries to Kordofan--My Difficulties with the El Fasher
    Garrison--The Revolt of the Mima Arabs--I learn of the Fall of
    El Obeid--The Death of Sheikh Afifi--My Campaign against the
    Mima and Khawabir Arabs--Discovery of a Plot amongst the Troops
    in Dara--My Officers and Men ascribe our Defeats to the Fact
    that I am a Christian--I decide to nominally adopt the
    Mohammedan Religion--I decide to send Zogal Bey to El Obeid--My
    Campaign against the Beni Helba--Beshari Bey seeks Death and
    finds it--Gravity of the Situation in Darfur.


Having reached Hashaba, I now did my utmost to organise a force capable
of operating successfully against Madibbo. I had succeeded in getting
the Gellabas either to join me themselves or give me their Bazingers. I
called on Zogal Bey and his brother for help, and between them they
collected two hundred of their Bazingers. I myself had also collected a
number of Blacks, some of whom I had freed, and others I employed at a
regular rate of pay. I had re-engaged Sharaf ed Din, formerly major and
commandant of Bazingers at Kulkul, but who had been discharged by Nur
Angara, as well as a number of Jaalin officers who had previously served
with Zubeir Pasha. And now the tribes I had summoned to aid the
Government had arrived, and my force consisted approximately of the
following:--

    Regulars, armed with Remingtons                          550
    Gellabas                                                 200
    Armed Bazingers under Sharaf ed Din, amongst whom, as
        leaders, were Abder Rasul, Sheikhs Khudr, Umbatti,
        Mungid Madani, Hassan Wad Sattarat, Sultan Begu,
        Suleiman Wad Farah, Muslem Wad Kabbashi, and
        others                                             1,300
    Various                                                  100
                                                           -----
    Total guns (of which about 600 were Remington rifles)  2,150
                                                           =====
    Also a muzzle-loading mountain gun and thirteen artillerymen.

The friendly tribes consisted of contingents from the Begu, Berket,
Zagawa (of southern Darfur), Messeria, Tagu, and some of the Maalia who
were hostile to Sheikh Abu Salama; numbering in all some seven thousand
spearmen and four hundred horses.

The garrison I had left behind at Dara consisted of four hundred
regulars, seven guns and the gunners required for their service, thirty
horses, and two hundred and fifty Bazingers; all under the command of
Zogal Bey, who was carrying on the duties of Acting-Governor, in
Emiliani's place. With him I had also left a certain Gottfried Rott, a
Swiss, and begged him to keep me fully informed of all that occurred.
This Rott had been a schoolmaster at Assiut, and had discovered, some
years previously, a quantity of slaves who were being smuggled along the
Arbaïn road, for sale in Egypt. In consequence of this service, Mr.
Gladstone had written him a complimentary letter. He had also received
an expression of approbation from the Anti-Slavery Society, and had been
appointed by the Egyptian Government an inspector for the suppression of
the slave-trade. He had been sent to me in Darfur, with instructions to
proceed to Shakka, which was to be his district; but he arrived just as
the troubles began, and I was obliged to keep him in Dara; he thoroughly
understood our position, and I had requested him to abandon for the
moment his anti-slavery work, which if persisted in would certainly have
increased our difficulties. He was a good Arabic scholar, and in a very
confidential talk I had with him, I confided to him my suspicions about
Zogal, and asked him to find out all he could from his relatives, and
keep me fully informed.

At the end of October I moved south, from Hashaba, with my entire force.
The Rizighat country, through which we advanced, was covered with dense
bush and forests; and, being constantly exposed to attack, I had to
march in such a way as to avoid confusion in the event of an ambush or
surprise.

The Bazingers on the flanks were well provided with buglers, in order to
give timely warning of an alarm. The rear guard I made stronger than the
flank guards because the Arabs generally attack from the rear, and I
considered that in case of a flank attack I should have ample time to
reinforce from the main body in case of necessity. The rear guard had,
of course, the most troublesome duty to perform, as they had to look
after any camels that broke down, and keep a careful lookout for men who
fell out or attempted to desert; I therefore gave orders that it should
be relieved daily by the flank guards in rotation from the left: thus
the left flank guard would become rear guard, the relieved rear guard
would become the right flank guard, and the latter would become the left
flank guard. I also relieved the three hundred Bazingers and sixty
regulars daily from the main body.

In this manner I hoped to reach Shakka without any serious loss; and on
arriving there it was my intention to build a fort where I should mount
the gun, and, leaving a small garrison there, make expeditions in light
marching order to the various disturbed districts, where my Arab
spearmen, if fortunate, would have ample opportunities of capturing any
quantity of Rizighat cattle.

On arrival at Deain, we found quantities of corn stored in the new
village just built by Madibbo; the guard he had left behind made a
slight resistance, but were soon put to flight, and we encamped on the
site of our old zariba. We found that Ali Wad Fadlalla's grave had been
opened, and a skull and some bones lying close by were evidently his. We
had covered the grave with a heap of thorns, and it was evident the
Arabs had committed this sacrilege; they had taken off the shroud in
which the body had been wrapped, and the hyenas had devoured all but
the skull and bones.

I distributed the corn found in Madibbo's village amongst the men, and
they had now sufficient supplies to last them some days. It was my
intention to march direct on Shakka; but as there was some doubt about
the water on the roads and the whereabouts of Madibbo, I sent two
Rizighat spies--who were on bad terms with the remainder of the tribe,
and had immigrated to Dara--to obtain the information I required. The
day after they left, our camp was reconnoitred by Arab horsemen, but
they kept at a respectful distance. Three days later the men returned,
reporting that there was sufficient water on the road, and that Madibbo
had driven all his cattle south of Shakka, where his force was probably
collected; but they said they could procure no more definite
information. We therefore marched off; the men and Arabs all in the best
possible spirits, laughing, joking, and discussing amongst themselves
how they intended distributing the plunder they expected to get, and how
they proposed dividing amongst themselves the wives and households of
Madibbo and his Sheikhs, on exactly the same plan as that adopted by the
Mahdi. I had little fear as to the eventual result of our operations,
but at the same time I was anxious to get to Shakka before being
attacked.

As I was suffering from a heavy bout of fever, I handed over the command
of the troops temporarily to Sharaf ed Din, but ordered him to remain
close to me. The following day, having left the village of Kindiri on
our flank, and having made a short halt, there was an alarm that
horsemen were advancing to attack us. Immediately every one was in his
place, and, in spite of my fever, I joined the rear guard, whence the
alarm had come; and from this position I could see numbers of
horsemen--there might have been some hundreds, but owing to the
intervening trees it was impossible to estimate accurately. Signalling
to the flank guards to join me, I advanced with the cavalry and Arab
horsemen, and a skirmish ensued amongst the trees, in which the enemy
were driven back with some loss, and we captured six horses; our own
losses were seven horses killed, two men missing, and several wounded.
Having pursued for some distance, we returned, and as it was still
early, the march was continued till nightfall, when we encamped at a
place called Om Waragat.

[Illustration: BATTLE OF OM WARAGAT--
Disposition of Troops on the March to Shakka]

Still suffering from fever, I told Sharaf ed Din to make exactly similar
dispositions (see plan); and starting off the following morning, after a
march of two hours we reached some more or less open but boggy moorland,
at the southeast end of which were visible a few huts such as are
erected by the Rizighat slaves who work in the fields. The vanguard had
already cleared the soft ground; I had gone forward with it to examine
the huts, whilst the men in the square were occupied in trying to help
out the animals whose feet had sunk into the mire, when suddenly from
the rear guard the alarm was sounded twice, followed almost immediately
by some rifle-shots. Ordering the vanguard to hold the huts, I
immediately galloped towards the left flank of the square, and, sounding
for the reserve of ninety regulars, I proceeded towards the rear guard;
but it was too late. The Bazingers and regulars of the rear guard,
having fired a volley, had no time to reload before the enemy was on
them; and, overpowered by thousands of half-naked Arabs, they were being
forced back on to the rear face of the square, the men composing which,
fearing to fire on friend and foe alike, did nothing to stop the rush,
and already several of the enemy had penetrated. Without a moment's
hesitation, I ordered my bugler to sound "lie down" for those in the
square, and, firing on the Arabs who had broken in, as well as on those
still pushing on from behind, I checked the rush, and caused them to
split up into two parties, who, trending off right and left, made for
the flank guards already engaged with other parties of Arabs who were
attacking them in front.

The confusion was now indescribable; within the square the Arabs who had
already penetrated, although suffering heavily from the fire from my
small party, were creating frightful havoc amongst the almost
defenceless Bazingers, who, armed only with muzzle-loaders, could do
nothing, whilst the regulars--so sudden had been the rush--had not even
time to draw their bayonets; eventually, however, those who had entered
were all killed. The flank guards, taken in front and rear, suffered
even more heavily than the square, and, breaking up entirely, they fled
in all directions, hundreds being killed by the Rizighat horsemen
concealed in the forest.

The action had lasted only twenty minutes, but in that short space of
time our losses were terrible. Fortunately, on the dispersion of the
flanking parties the enemy had pursued them hotly. My fire, it is true,
had driven them away from the square, but at what sacrifice! Amongst the
regulars who had obeyed my signal to lie down, the losses had not been
so severe; but the untrained Bazingers had suffered terribly, and many
of our camels had also been killed.

In the midst of the confusion, I saw one of the enemy, who passed close
to us, carrying off a red bag containing the fuses for the gun. He
evidently thought he had some very special loot; and so indeed it was,
as without the fuses our gun was useless. "Kir," said I to my young
Black attendant, who seldom left me, "let me see if you are as brave as
you always say you are; go and fetch the red bag,--here is my horse;"
and, jumping off, I gave it to him. He mounted, and taking only a spear
in his hand, dashed off, returning in a few minutes with the red bag and
a still redder spear.

The last horseman had disappeared in the distance, and I now sounded the
"assembly." Only a few hundred responded to the call, and dividing these
up into parties, I detailed half as guards, while the others were
employed in collecting together the ammunition and arms of those who had
fallen, packing them on the camels and depositing them in the little
village, which, standing on a small sandy plain, afforded us a fairly
clear field of view; then, collecting a quantity of thorn-bushes, we
constructed a zariba as quickly as possible, fearing that at any moment
the enemy might return. This done, our next thought was for the wounded;
those only slightly hurt had already crawled to the zariba, and the
severely wounded we now carried in, and did what was possible to
alleviate their sufferings.

As far as the eye could reach, the ground was strewn with dead bodies,
and what numbers too lay in the forest out of view! Curiously enough,
this disaster had taken place on the actual spot where, years before,
Adam Tarbush, the Vizir of Sultan Hussein, had suffered a similar defeat
and lost his life.

Now came the terribly sad duty of calling the roll. Of my fourteen
infantry officers, ten had fallen, and one was wounded. The Gellaba
chiefs, Sheikh Khidr, Mangel Medani, Hassan Wad Sattarat, and Suleiman
Wad Fatah had been killed, as well as Fiki Ahmed, Hassib, and Shekelub.
Of the thirteen artillerymen, one only remained alive. The Greek
Alexander, too, who had previously been wounded at Deain, and who had
not yet recovered, had been killed. Sorrowfully we collected the dead,
to pay them the last honours. Amongst a heap of bodies we found Sharaf
ed Din, stabbed to the heart. In the soft damp ground we hurriedly dug
rough graves, and officers and chiefs we buried in twos and threes,--a
terribly sad task.

As for the poor wounded, there was little we could do for them. Those
only slightly hurt were already dressing their own wounds; but for the
severe cases, we had no means of dressing them, and a few comforting
words was all the small help we could give them. It was indeed painful
to see such suffering, and feel how utterly incapable one was of
alleviating it. Catching sight of one of my boys, who was carrying my
satchel with a few bandages in it, I took it from him and began dressing
one or two cases, when it suddenly occurred to me that I had not seen my
other boy, Morgan Hosan, who was leading one of my horses. He was a
fine, intelligent young fellow, scarcely sixteen years old, honest,
quiet, and brave. "Isa," said I to the boy carrying the satchel, "where
is Morgan, who was leading my horse Mubarak [on which were my note-books
and sketches in the saddle-bags]; he is an active fellow, and perhaps
mounted the horse, and has managed to escape." Sad and broken-hearted,
poor Isa shook his head, and, his eyes filling with tears, he handed me
a bit of my horse's bridle. "What is this?" I asked. "Master," said he,
"I did not want to make you more sorry than you are. I found him not far
from here, lying on the ground with a spear-wound in his chest. When he
saw me he smiled and whispered, 'I knew you would come and look for me.
Say good-bye to my master, and tell him I was not a coward. I did not
let go his horse, and it was only when I fell down stabbed in the chest
that they cut the bridle to which I clung, and took him; show my master
the bit of the bridle that is still in my hand, and tell him that Morgan
was faithful. Take the knife out of my pocket,--it belongs to my master;
give it to him, and say many salams to him from me.'" Isa, his voice
choked with sobbing, handed me the knife, and I, too, now quite broke
down. Poor Morgan, so young and so true! Poor master, to have lost so
faithful a servant and so true a friend! "Tell me, Isa, what was the
end?" I said. "He was thirsty," he replied, "and I took his head in my
hands, and in a few seconds he was dead. I then got up and left him; I
had other things to do, and there was no time to cry."

[Illustration: Fight between the Rizighat and Egyptian Troops.]

Ordering the zariba to be strengthened, and trenches to be dug inside, I
then had the drums beaten, bugles blown, and some rifle shots fired, so
that any who might still be fleeing, or stopped by the swampy ground
slightly wounded, might know that a place of refuge was at hand. During
the day, a considerable number came in, and, calling over the roll in
the evening, I found we mustered in all nine hundred men, including
regulars and Bazingers,--a sad and broken remnant out of a force of
eighty-five hundred men, but still something for which to be thankful.
Of our horsemen and cavalry, thirty only were left,--the enemy had
probably captured a large number, and some had perhaps escaped and
returned to Dara or to their own homes; but of arms and ammunition of
those who had fallen we had abundance.

At sunset the Rizighat Arabs returned from the pursuit, and, to their
astonishment, found us in an entrenched position, ready to fight them.
Madibbo now sent forward his Bazingers to attack us; but after a short
struggle we drove them back, and darkness coming on, all firing ceased.
Whilst sitting talking to my officers, Sheikhs Abder Rasul, Muslim Wad
Kabbashi, and Sultan Begu approached, and asked whether it would not be
better to retreat from our present position under cover of night, as
after our heavy defeat and losses we had no chance now against the
enemy. "Well," said I, "you wish to retreat during the night; but what
will you do with all our wounded comrades and brothers? Do you want to
leave them to the tender mercies of our enemies?" Shamefaced, they were
silent and did not reply. "No," said I, "your proposal is not a good
one; I have been talking over the matter with my officers, and we have
resolved to remain where we are for a few days. We have now nothing to
fear but hunger; the wounded and tired camels can be killed for food for
the soldiers. Besides, we can exist somehow or other for a few days. We
shall most certainly be attacked, as we have already been, but we shall
equally surely drive off the enemy. In this way the men will regain
confidence after the terrible shock we have all suffered. I know the
Rizighat; they will not stay here and watch us. I feel confident we
shall settle accounts with Madibbo, his Bazingers, and Sheikh Jango, who
fled once before to the Bahr el Ghazal. Our wounded comrades will have
time to recover their strength a little; those only suffering slightly
will be able to march in a few days, and the others we can mount on our
horses. I think my proposal is a much better one than yours."

Whilst I had been talking I had overheard Sultan Abakr making remarks of
approval, and by the time I had finished all had agreed to stay.

Speaking generally to all present, I said to them, "Can any of you
understand how it was we were defeated to-day?" "No," they all answered.
"Well, I will tell you," I replied. "This evening I saw amongst the
wounded the assistant of Hassan Wad Sattarat, commander of the rear
guard. He said, 'Sharaf ed Din did not carry out your instructions to
relieve the rear guard, as on the previous days; the regulars were
annoyed, and joined their companies without permission, and no fresh men
were sent in their places. At the same time the friendly Arabs joined
the flank guards, and when we were attacked, Hassan Wad Sattarat had at
his disposal only about two hundred and fifty Bazingers armed with old
percussion-guns.' Sharaf ed Din has paid for his negligence with his
life, and we have all suffered as well. It is too late for recrimination
now; let us think of something else. Go and cheer up your men; get some
sleep, so that you may be fit for what to-morrow may bring. But you,
Said Agha Fula, as you are wounded, will probably not be able to sleep;
so we will put an angareb for you to lie down on at the gate of the
zariba, and, should any one attempt to go out without my permission, you
have my orders to shoot him."

Now that I was alone, I had time to think over the situation. It was
very probable we should succeed in retiring on Dara, we had over eight
hundred rifles and guns. But I bitterly deplored the losses; all my best
officers and advisers were killed, and I dreaded lest the news of our
disaster should reach Dara before I could communicate, as, in the event
of this, the effect might be most serious both on the garrison and
amongst the inhabitants. I therefore woke up my clerk and ordered him to
write two short notes,--one to Zogal, and the other to the commandant,
Adjutant-Major Mohammed Farag, informing them that, in spite of heavy
losses, we were well, and that we hoped to return to Dara in about a
fortnight; but should fugitives come in and spread false and alarming
news about our situation, they were to be arrested and kept under guard
till I returned. I myself wrote a few lines to Gottfried Rott,
describing the situation, and informing him that I hoped to return to
Dara before long with the remainder of the troops; that he must not be
down-hearted, but should do his utmost to keep up the spirits of all. I
enclosed also a note to my mother, brothers, and sisters, bidding them
farewell, as it was impossible to foresee what would be the end of all
this trouble. In case I should fall, I begged Rott to send these on to
my dear ones at home.

Taking the letters in my hand, I now went to Abdulla Om Dramo, Sheikh of
the Messeria Arabs, who resided near Dara, and, waking him up, I said,
"Where is your brother Salama?" "There he is," said he, pointing to the
man lying beside him, and waking him up also. "Salama," said I, "you can
render me a great service, which will also be of much advantage to
yourself. You see these letters, you must take them to Dara and hand
them over to the European Rott, whom you have often seen with me; I
shall give you my own horse, which you always say is such a good one,
for this mission. You must leave at once, and when you get near the line
of the enemy encircling us, ride sharply through, for they are all
asleep, and you will have disappeared in the dark before they can get
their horses ready; once through their lines you will be safe, and in
two days you should be in Dara. As a reward, I, will give you my black
mare, which is in my stable." Whilst I was talking, Salama had tightened
up the cloth round his chest and loins, and merely said, "Where are the
letters?" I gave them to him, and, taking them, he said, "Please God and
with the help of the Almighty I shall take these letters to their
destination. But I prefer to ride my own horse; he may not be so swift
as yours, but he is quite strong enough to take me home on his back. I
know my horse, and he knows me. Mutual acquaintances are always an
advantage on such expeditions." Whilst he was girthing up his saddle, I
scribbled a line to Rott, telling him to give the bearer of these
letters my black mare, and, handing it to him, I told him what I had
written; then, leading his horse to the gate, we came to Said Agha Fula,
who was lying restlessly and in pain on his angareb: he was wounded in
the right leg and left arm. I told him about Salama's mission, and he
then ordered the gate to be opened. In a moment Salama had mounted, and,
holding in his right hand his long spear, and in his left his bundle of
small spears, he started off. "I commit you to God's keeping," I cried.
"I trust in God," was his reply. Going slowly at first, he approached
the lines cautiously; then I heard the rapid clatter of hoofs, in a few
minutes one or two rifle-shots rang out in the still night, then all was
as silent again as death. "May God go with him!" we all ejaculated, and
then re-entered the zariba. Exhausted nature now claimed me, and,
utterly tired out, I was soon fast asleep.

When I woke up at early dawn I found the men already at work
strengthening the breastworks, and, as I had anticipated, the enemy
renewed their attack at sunrise. For some time a very brisk fire was
kept up on both sides; but, owing to our dominating position the Arabs
were at length forced to retire, after suffering considerable loss. On
our side there were a few killed and wounded; amongst the former being
Ali Wad Hegaz, a Jaali, and one of the best and bravest of his tribe. As
it was our intention to remain here four or five days, the men busied
themselves in strengthening the zariba, and we also buried the bodies of
friends and foes in the immediate vicinity, as already the air was
contaminated with the fetid smell of decaying corpses.

Amongst my men were two Bazingers whom on a former occasion I had
employed to carry messages to my friend Lupton, who had succeeded Gessi
as Governor-General of Bahr el Ghazal. It now occurred to me that it
would be advisable to let him know the situation in Darfur, and ask him,
should he be not otherwise occupied, to make an expedition against the
Rizighat and Habbania Arabs, who in the wet season took their cattle
into his province. I had ascertained that trouble had broken out in the
Bahr el Ghazal as well, from a wounded Rizighat slave-hunter who had
fallen into our hands; and he had told me that the Janghé tribe had
revolted. Sheikh Janghé had attached Telgauna and sacked it; but having
been subsequently defeated, he had joined Madibbo, and had been present
with two hundred men in yesterday's action. However, I had no doubt that
Lupton was better off than I was; and, provided the Government officials
were loyal, I knew he had nothing to fear, for the tribes were too
disunited to join in common action against the Government. Besides, the
religious factor, which was the bond of union amongst the northern
tribes, did not enter into the Bahr el Ghazal situation, where the
majority of the Black tribes were pagans.

In the Bahr el Ghazal the most important tribes, who are principally
negroes and negroids, are the Janghé, Farogé, Kâra, Runga, Fertit,
Kraitsh, Baya, Tega, Banda, Niam Niam, Bongo, Mombuttu, etc.; all these
were entirely distinct from one another, having their kings or rulers,
and there were continual feuds between them. It was this fact which
enabled the Nile Arabs to enter the country with comparative ease, as
Zubeir Pasha had done; it was a very simple operation to collect a
number of the inhabitants, train them to the use of fire-arms, and
utilise their services to invade a neighbouring tribe. These savage
chiefs were too ignorant to understand that by combining in their
opposition to foreign intrusion they would probably have been able to
preserve their own integrity; but it is contrary to the traditions of
these tribes to be ruled by any but their own chiefs, unless it be by
Arabs or Europeans; and this fact accounts for the ease with which the
slave-hunters pursued their nefarious traffic, almost unopposed,
throughout the length and breadth of this vast province, which is
peopled by the most warlike races in the Sudan, and who are capable of
making excellent soldiers.

To Lupton, therefore, I decided to write, requesting him to advance
against the Arabs on the Bahr el Ghazal frontier,--an operation which
would certainly weaken the latter, or at least prevent them from
entering Darfur. These few lines I concealed in a dry pumpkin gourd, and
despatched by the hands of the two Bazingers.

We passed five days in the zariba, attacked once, if not twice, every
day. During the action fought on the third day Koreina Nur, the
commander of Madibbo's gun-bearers, and the bravest and boldest of his
Arabs, was killed; and henceforth the enemy's attacks diminished greatly
in vigour.

But now we had a new enemy to contend against,--famine. Almost
everything eatable in the camp had been consumed; the camel meat, which
had amply sufficed for the men, was now finished; there was not a grain
of dhurra left; my officers and I had lived for some time on some old
crusts of dhurra bread, which we had cooked with the leaves of a plant
called kawal, and stirred up into a sort of tasteless porridge. We had
no prospect of being relieved, to stay longer where we were was
impossible, and already we were weakened by want of food; I therefore
assembled the entire force,--consisting of nine hundred men, almost all
of whom were armed with rifles and guns, except a few Arabs, who, being
ignorant of fire-arms, prepared to trust to their lances,--and,
addressing them in a few words, I told them that the blood of their dead
officers and chiefs cried to them for vengeance; that their wives and
children anxiously awaited their return, but that it was impossible to
reach them without enduring troubles with patience, and facing
difficulties with courage and endurance; and I closed my harangue by
saying that those in whose hearts was fear had left us in the day of
battle, but those now before me had bravely stood their ground against
overwhelming odds, and that I had no doubt they would do so again, and
that God would crown our efforts by victory.

A shout, and the shaking of rifles and guns over their heads, which is
their usual method of signifying their obedience and courage, was their
reply; and I then dismissed them, with orders to prepare to march the
following day. I now took out the hammers from the percussion guns
belonging to the killed, which lay heaped up in the middle of the
zariba, and threw them into a rain pool; but of the stocks I made a
bonfire. The filled shells for the gun I threw into the water, and as
much ammunition as possible was distributed amongst the soldiers, each
man carrying from sixteen to eighteen dozen rounds; but all the
percussion gun ammunition I was obliged to destroy, in case it should
fall into the hands of the enemy; the lead in the cartridges was
removed, and some of the very severely wounded having just died, I
placed it in the open graves, over which we laid the bodies of our poor
comrades, as guardians of our precious metal.

It was on a Saturday, the seventh day after our disaster, and just after
sunrise, that we marched out of the zariba, and, forming up in square
with flank and rear guards, we began our retreat. The only two camels
remaining drew the gun in the middle of the square, and I sent out two
Arab horsemen as far as possible on each side to scout. We had one
hundred and sixty wounded inside the square, and as many of them as
could march did so; but the most severe cases we mounted on the few
remaining horses, each horse carrying two or three men. I myself was
prepared to walk; but, at the urgent request of my officers, I mounted,
so as to obtain a better view over the country. We all knew that when we
had marched some distance from the zariba we should most certainly be
attacked; I therefore had the gun loaded, and we resolved to sell our
lives dearly. We well understood the Arab mode of fighting, and were
confident that if we succeeded in driving back the first two or three
attacks, we should not be further molested. It was decided the line of
direction should be northeast, as the ground was more open; but we were
ignorant of the whereabouts of the rain-pools, as our guides were either
killed or had deserted.

Before we had been on the march an hour, we were attacked in the rear by
horsemen, and I knew the decisive moment had come. Halting instantly, I
called in the flank guards closer to the square, and, accompanied by my
own escort of fifty men, proceeded to the rear guard, distant about two
hundred yards. The gun was run out to the rear face of the square, and
several of the slightly wounded held the cartridges and shell ready to
reload without delay. Before the enemy's footmen were in sight we could
hear the sound of their advance; and when they did appear, a few
well-directed volleys from the rear guard had the effect of slightly
checking them; but, encouraged by those coming up behind, they rushed
towards us, waving their great lances in their right hands, and carrying
in their left bundles of small throwing spears. They succeeded in coming
so close that several of our men were wounded by thrown spears; but our
fire created havoc amongst their ranks, and the gun played on them
freely from the square. Their spearmen now gave way to Madibbo's and
Jangho's Bazingers, and a very brisk fire was maintained on both sides;
but, getting reinforcements from the square, we succeeded, after twenty
minutes' hard struggle, in driving back the attack. On the first shots
being fired, I had at once jumped off my horse, which is always
understood in the Sudan to mean that, abandoning his chance of flight in
case of a reverse, the commander has determined to conquer or die with
his troops; and now that the action was over, the men came round me, and
we had a great mutual hand-shaking over this, our first success.

Whilst we had been engaged in combating the attack on the rear, the left
flank guard had also become engaged, and, though the enemy had been
driven off, nevertheless it had suffered somewhat, and my best remaining
officer, Zeidan Agha, was dangerously wounded. He was a Nubian by birth,
and during the Darfur campaign had shown conspicuous gallantry in
recapturing, at the head of only twelve men, a gun which had been taken
by the enemy. For this service he had been promoted to the rank of an
officer; and now he lay with a bullet through his right lung. I asked
him how he was, and, giving me his hand, he murmured, "Now that we have
conquered, we are all right;" and, pressing my hand, in a few minutes he
was dead. Besides him we had lost twenty men killed, and several
wounded. Our dead we buried roughly, as there was no time to dig
graves; but we covered them sufficiently to avoid the reproach that we
had left our dead unburied, and then continued our march with the same
precautions, but with considerably increased confidence.

About three o'clock another attack on the rear was signalled; but this
time it was not pressed home, and we drove off the enemy without
suffering any loss ourselves. We now halted and formed a zariba,
momentarily expecting another attack. But, to our surprise, we passed
the night undisturbed, and the next morning at sunrise, having finished
all our water, we resumed our march. Again we were subjected to an
attack; but on this occasion it was even weaker than that of the
previous afternoon, and was driven off without any trouble. We continued
our march till midday, without finding any water; but got a little rest
under the shady trees, and found a quantity of "fayo," a sort of native
radish and very juicy. Three small leaves springing from the ground
denote its presence, and it was sucked with avidity by our parched
troops, and in some measure assuaged our thirst; but still it was
absolutely necessary to find water. After a short halt we pushed on
again, and by good fortune accidentally came across a Rizighat shepherd,
driving before him a flock of sheep. In an instant the men had seized
the sheep, while the unfortunate shepherd, taken completely by surprise,
did not attempt to escape, and would certainly have been killed, had I
not rushed forward and prevented the men from harming him. I now had all
the sheep driven inside the square; and meanwhile, my boys, having tied
the Arab's hands behind his back, brought him before me. But before
interrogating him, I gave orders for the sheep, of which there were over
two hundred, to be distributed amongst the famished men, to every five
men one sheep, and we kept a few for ourselves. What a godsend to us was
this food! Turning now to the Arab, I told him that his life would be
spared if he would guide us to a rain pool; and that if he proved
faithful I should give him a good reward, and let him go to his own
home. He agreed, but said that there were only a few small pools in
this neighbourhood, and that if we went on some distance further, and
then halted, he would guarantee to bring us to the "fula el beida" (the
white rain-pool) early the next morning, where there was sufficient
water to last us for months. I was somewhat suspicious of him, and,
therefore, ordered a non-commissioned officer and eight men to keep
guard over him, and not to allow him to go far from me. We then resumed
the march, halted at sunset, and made our zariba as usual. We came
across a few pools, but they were quite insufficient; and as we were
still suffering considerably from thirst, I started on again at earliest
dawn, having passed a miserable and sleepless night. About midday the
guide pointed out some large trees, under which he said the pool lay.
Halting, therefore, at once, I ordered the gun to be dismounted and
loaded, and all preparations made to resist. It seemed to me very
probable that the enemy, knowing that we should be suffering from
thirst, would be in concealment somewhere near the water, and would
charge us as we were approaching. I now called on the men to strictly
obey all orders, and on no account to become undisciplined. But as soon
as the water came in view, the poor thirsty troops could contain
themselves no longer, and rushed pell-mell towards it. I managed to
restrain the forty men I had as escort, and there were about the same
number with the rear guard; and although I sounded the "assembly" again
and again, the men were now completely out of hand, plunging up to their
waists in the water, in their frenzy of delight. But, as I had
anticipated, the enemy were concealed behind the trees--fortunately, at
some distance off--and, seeing our disorder, they now made a general
attack from all sides. Galloping to the front, followed by the escort,
we opened fire; while Mohammed Suleiman did the same as regards the
rear. Our demoralised men, seeing the situation, at once fell in, and
after some heavy firing we drove off the enemy, losing in this mêlée
only one horse. We now selected a suitable position near the water, and
set to work to make a zariba; and that finished, the men killed their
sheep, fires were lighted, and in an hour they were enjoying the first
solid meal they had had for many a day. As we were all sadly in need of
a rest, I decided to remain in this position till the following day.

That evening a report came in from the outposts that a man was seen
waving a piece of white calico and asking to be allowed to see me. I did
not wish him to enter the zariba and see all our wounded; I therefore
went out, and found that he was one of Madibbo's slaves, bearing a
letter for me from his master. In this letter Madibbo called on me to
surrender and hand over my arms. He further wrote that the Mahdi was now
encamped before El Obeid, which he expected to capture shortly. He
promised to treat me with all respect, and to send me, under safe
escort, to the Mahdi. I now ordered this letter to be read aloud to the
men, who greeted it with jeers, and asked the slave if his master was
mad; to which the terror-stricken man replied that he did not really
know. I then turned to him seriously, and, speaking loud enough for all
to hear, I said, "Tell Madibbo it was God's will we should have suffered
losses, but we are not defeated. We are wandering about in his country,
and if he does not like us to do so, he must accept the situation, as he
has neither the power nor the courage to stop us. If he is really an
adherent of the Mahdi, and desires to enjoy the pleasures of Paradise
promised him, then let him come here to-morrow morning. We shall wait
for him, and for his sake we shall not march to-morrow."

Most of the men had now gathered round us, and were listening to this
speech and laughing; and when I bade the messenger good-bye, some of the
wits begged him to give Madibbo their compliments, and tell him they
hoped soon to have the pleasure of his personal acquaintance. The men
were now in the highest spirits; they really did wish to make Madibbo's
acquaintance, and wipe out, if possible, the defeat they had suffered at
Om Waragat.

That evening I presented our guide with a piece of red cloth, a pair of
silver bangles, and a few dollars, which I borrowed from the surviving
merchants, and he quitted the zariba full of gratitude. At the same time
I told him that should he come to Dara I would repay him the value of
his sheep.

The next morning we ascertained in various ways that Madibbo was not far
off, and after our boasting it behoved us to be very cautious. However,
we were not attacked. Some of the men outside the zariba were amusing
themselves by making small caps of twisted palm-leaves, like those worn
by some of the Arabs we had killed, when a Rizighat horseman, who had
evidently lost his way, came galloping towards us, thinking we were
Madibbo's people. My men at once stopped him, and, making him dismount,
brought him before me. Suddenly realising his mistake, he cried out,
"Allahu Akbar! ana kataltu nafsi" (God is most great! I have killed
myself). However, I consoled him, and handed him over to Mohammed
Suleiman to be watched, and gave his horse to Mohammed Khalil, who had
lost his in yesterday's action. That night I sent in a letter, by a
runner to Dara, informing Zogal and Gottfried Rott that we were all
well, and hoped soon to be with them.

The next morning I gave orders to march, and sent for the Arab who had
come in yesterday, to speak to him about the road, but was told that
some of the men, infuriated at the death of their comrades, had split
open his head with an axe. Mohammed Suleiman denied all knowledge of the
perpetrators of this crime, and knowing in what condition my men were, I
thought it better to let this incident of brutality pass. During this
day's march, as if to bid us farewell, we were once more attacked, but
the enemy was again driven off. We picked up a wounded Arab, who told us
that Mohammed Abu Salama and several Habbania Sheikhs were still with
Madibbo, but that Sheikh Jango, owing to the heavy losses he had
suffered at Om Waragat, had returned to the Bahr el Ghazal. I had no
doubt the man would be picked up by his own friends, so I left him, and
that evening reached a place some distance southeast of Deain. On the
following day we reached Bir Dilwei, and thence we continued our march
without interruption to Dara.

On the road letters reached me saying that Salama, whom I had sent off
from Om Waragat, had arrived safely; they reported rumours that the Mima
intended to revolt; and Rott, in a letter of which the handwriting was
scarcely legible, told me that he had been taken ill the previous
Saturday, and was very anxious to see me. I also received a report from
Omar Wad Darho, stating that he had heard El Obeid was besieged, and
that he did not think the Homr Arabs would dare to attack Om Shanga
again, after their constant defeats. The reports of the Mudir of El
Fasher were in general satisfactory, except as regards the Mima Arabs.
News from Kebkebia and Kulkul was also good.

At length we reached Dara, and our entry was by no means a cheerful one.
Many, of course, were happy to see their husbands, fathers, and brothers
again; but how many more wept and wailed for their dead, lying on the
distant battle-field!

It behoved me now to look after my own bruises. In the various fights I
had been wounded three times. A bullet had shattered the ring-finger of
my right hand, which had to be amputated almost to the root; the fingers
on either side were also damaged. Another bullet had struck me in the
upper part of my leg, and, flattening against the bone, made it
protrude. A thrown lance had also struck me in the right knee. In spite
of these wounds, I had been able to go through the campaign without much
suffering; but I felt weak and overdone, and was very glad of a few
days' rest.

I found poor Gottfried Rott very seriously ill. He wanted to move to
Fasher for change of air; and having again heard from Said Bey Guma that
it was impossible to get camels to send the remainder of the ammunition
for which I had asked, I now hired all the camels I could in Dara,--the
property of officers, officials, and merchants, about fifty in all,--and
sent them under escort of one hundred regulars to El Fasher, ordering
Said Bey to load them up with ammunition, send them back without delay,
and with them as many other beasts of burden as he could procure. I
wrote also to Adam Amer, the commandant, ordering him to send me a
reinforcement of two hundred men (one hundred regulars and one hundred
Bazingers) from Kebkebia direct to Dara. With this caravan I sent
Gottfried Rott in charge of an officer, who was ordered to take him to
my house in El Fasher, and at the same time I wrote to a Greek merchant
named Dimitri Zigada, and asked him to do all he could for the patient.

The news from Kordofan being very contradictory,--though at the same
time the general tenor was unsatisfactory,--I set to work to try and
procure some reliable information. I therefore sent Khaled Wad Imam and
Mohammed Wad Asi--the latter a most faithful man--to that province, with
instructions either to send me news with the least possible delay, or
return with it themselves. Khaled Wad Imam had been brought up with
Zogal, and although they were not related to each other, they were
generally looked upon as brothers. My reason for sending him with Asi
was that he should protect him in El Obeid, and the plan succeeded
admirably; for Khaled was naturally anxious to do nothing which would
jeopardise Zogal, who, of course, remained with me at Dara. At the same
time I cautioned Asi to remain on as friendly terms as possible with
Khaled, and to try and find out if Zogal was in communication with the
Mahdi, and, under any circumstances, to return to me as quickly as
possible.

The day after my return to Dara, I sent orders to Omar Wad Darho to go
back at once with all his men to El Fasher, leaving one of his officers,
El Ata Wad Melek Usul, of the Shaigia royal blood, as commander of the
newly recruited horsemen at Om Shanga. I also learnt that Abo Bey el
Bartawi, the official in charge of the Toweisha district, was in
communication with the Mima, and was inclined to revolt,--a rumour which
was subsequently confirmed, as he refused to obey my summons to him to
come to Dara, and he did not explain his reasons for not doing so.

In twelve days the caravan returned from El Fasher with the fifty
camels, a hundred boxes of Remington ammunition, and ten kantars of
lead. Said Bey made the usual excuses that he could hire no camels from
the employés, and Adam Amer wrote that, owing to the disturbed aspect of
affairs in the Fasher district, it was impossible to send me the
reinforcements I had ordered.

I now thoroughly understood the situation. The officers were undoubtedly
hostile to me. They had talked amongst themselves, and had spread
rumours all through the country that Ahmed Pasha Arabi had turned his
master, the Khedive, out of Egypt, because he was friendly to
Christians, and admitted them into his service; that Arabi was now
master of the country, and had turned out all who were not Egyptians,
such as Turks and Circassians, and had confiscated their property, which
had been turned over to the Government. They had further declared that I
had been discharged from my position, but that, owing to the roads being
cut, the authority for my dismissal had not come to hand. Of course the
more sensible people placed no credence in these idle tales; but there
was no doubt my authority was distinctly impaired, and this state of
things was taken full advantage of by those who bore me a grudge.
Hitherto there had been no overt act of disobedience to my orders; but
excuses were being continually made, as there was evident inclination
not to comply with them. However, such was the situation, and I had to
put up with it and be as cheerful as I could under the circumstances. I
was reminded of the Arab proverb, "El kalb yenbah wa el gamal mashi"
(The dog barks, whilst the camel _unheeding_ passes by); in other words,
I thought it better to take no notice of all this cackling.

Beshari Bey Wad Bekir, head-Sheikh of the Beni Helba Arabs, whom I had
summoned to Dara, pleaded sickness; but anxious not to break off
entirely with me, he sent me two horses and thirty oxen, which he begged
me to accept as a token of submission, adding that as soon as the state
of his health permitted he would certainly come. I gave the horses to
the officers who had lost theirs in battle, and the thirty oxen I gave
to the men.

By the same post which brought me news of Omar Wad Darho's arrival at El
Fasher I heard of poor Gottfried Rott's death. In spite of most careful
nursing and attention, he gradually sank, and was buried at El Fasher,
beside Dr. Pfund and Friedrich Rosset, who had died there some years
before.

The Mima were now in a state of open revolt. They had killed one of the
Government mounted postmen, and had turned out their own Sultan Daud,
who was peaceably inclined to Government, and replaced him by another. I
therefore sent instructions to Omar Wad Darho to proceed with two
hundred regulars and two hundred horsemen into their country, to
chastise them; and at the same time I decided to operate against the
Khawabir, who were acting in conjunction with the Mima. Darho started
off, and had a successful little campaign, defeating the Mima at Fafa
and Woda, whilst I proceeded, with a hundred and fifty regulars and
fifty horsemen, _via_ Shieria, to Bir Om Lawai, where the Khawabir,
apprised of my approach, were waiting to attack me. After a short fight
they were defeated and dispersed, and we captured a considerable number
of sheep and oxen.

When these operations were over, I instructed Darho to leave a
sufficiently strong force at Fasher, and to join me at Bir Om Lawai with
the remainder of his men. In a few days he arrived, and gave me a full
account of all his doings, and further details of the Mahdi's successes
in Kordofan, which to me were excessively disquieting. Abo Bey having
now openly joined in the Mima revolt, I decided to send Omar Agha with a
sufficiently strong force to Toweisha, with instructions to destroy his
residence, distant two days, whilst I despatched Omar Wad Darho and his
men to again worry the Khawabir, who had retired to their sand-hills.
He, however, met with no very signal success. The Khawabir country,
except at Bir Om Lawai, is a sandy tract, destitute of trees and
vegetation; but the rain, which lies for some months in the depressions
of the ground, enables the Arabs to live here; and when it dries up they
drink the contents of the water-melons, which grow in abundance near the
pools, and which, when pressed, yield a somewhat sour but
pleasant-tasting juice.

On the evening in which I was writing out Darho's instructions for his
expedition against the Khawabir, a certain Abderrahman Wad Sherif came
and urgently begged to speak to me. He was a well-known Dara merchant,
and had previously travelled to Khartum. He began by saying that as I
had always treated him with kindness, he thought it his duty to inform
me that El Obeid had capitulated, adding that the early news of this sad
event might enable me to take the measures I considered necessary. This
was a terrible blow; but I thanked him for his melancholy news, and he
then described to me in detail what had taken place. He was present at
the time of the surrender and had left three days afterwards to visit
his family in Dara; but hearing at Toweisha that I was at Bir Om Lawai,
he had come straight to me, as he was most anxious that this news should
reach me first through a friend.

As I knew it was useless to try and keep this secret, I summoned Darho
and Suleiman Basyuni, and told them what I had heard, and we talked over
the steps which we should now take. It was very evident that this news
would prove an immense incentive to those hostilely inclined to the
Government, and there was no doubt my presence in Dara was an urgent
necessity. As the Mima and Khawabir had been chastised, the next thing
in order of importance was to send an expedition to Toweisha, and on the
following day I wrote to Said Bey Guma that Om Shanga should be
evacuated, and that the garrison, merchants, and any who wished should
withdraw to El Fasher. I explained that as El Obeid had fallen, it was
more than probable the Arabs would now turn on Om Shanga, and if
invested, it would be quite impossible to send relief; and that, under
any circumstances, it was imperative that the principal fighting forces
in the province should be concentrated at Fasher. I also ordered him to
establish a strong post at Fafa and Woda, in the Mima country, in order
to keep open communication between Fasher and Dara. Omar Wad Darho and
his men I instructed to return forthwith to El Fasher, adding that any
booty taken from the Mima should be distributed amongst his men and the
Fasher garrison, whilst that taken from the Khawabir should go to the
Dara troops. On the following day we separated,--Darho to Fasher, and I
back to Dara.

In a few days the news of the fall of El Obeid had spread far and wide,
and the effect on the Arab tribes became immediately apparent: meetings
were held in all parts of the country, and it was decided almost
unanimously to rise against the Government.

The day I arrived at Dara, I ordered all the dhurra I could find to be
bought up; we had a considerable amount now in store, but more would
certainly be advantageous. Sheikh Afifi now sent me news that his tribe
had revolted and had joined the Rizighat, but he himself, true to his
promise, was leaving his own country with his family and relatives and
was coming to me _via_ Dar Helba, and that he had sent his brother Ali
with a message to Beshari Bey Wad Bekir, the head-Sheikh of the Beni
Helba, with whom solemn oaths had been exchanged, agreeing to his safe
conduct through his country, and therefore he hoped to be with me in a
few days.

I was awaiting his arrival when the sad news came that he had been
killed. In him I lost my most faithful Arab Sheikh. It transpired that
the Beni Helba, who had been ordered by their Sheikh to let him through,
wanted to take from him his numerous sheep and oxen, and, having
refused, a fight had ensued; he had performed prodigies of valour, but
had been slain by some spearmen concealed amongst the trees, when in
pursuit of the mounted Arabs, whom he had twice successfully driven off.

Mohammed Wad Asi, whom I had sent with Khaled Wad Imam, now returned
from Kordofan, and gave me the fullest particulars regarding the
situation there. He brought me the good news that Government was
collecting a large force in Khartum for the re-conquest of Kordofan, but
that no doubt a considerable time must elapse before the expedition
could start. I told him to spread this news in all directions, and then
inquired as to Zogal's relations with the Mahdi. He replied that in
spite of the most careful investigation, he could not ascertain
definitely if any direct correspondence took place between them, but he
had no doubt that Zogal received verbal messages from the Mahdi, brought
by itinerant merchants; he however shared my views, that Zogal, being a
man of position and education, must be well aware of the actual motives
of the revolt, and would not be likely to embark on any foolish
undertaking. No doubt the capitulation of El Obeid had greatly weakened
our position, and with the whole of Kordofan in the hands of the enemy,
it behoved us to act with the greatest caution and circumspection. Wad
Asi's news about the expedition preparing in Khartum would probably have
the effect on the Mahdi of making him keep his forces together so as to
offer a united resistance; it was not, therefore, likely he would turn
to us just at present. We must give all our attention to the revolt of
the Arab tribes, who, now thoroughly inflamed by the news of the
capitulation of El Obeid, and stirred up by fanatical proclamations,
were ready to proceed to all extremities. As the operations of the
intended expedition to Kordofan would not probably be finished till the
winter, it was imperative that we should try and hold out by some means
till then.

In spite of the formation of the military post at Fafa and Woda, the Bir
Om Lawai Khawabir Arabs had again collected, and, joined by a number of
Mima who had been irritated by the roads to their country being cut,
and stimulated by the fall of El Obeid, were now stirring up the entire
country between Fasher and Dara, whilst the troops at Fafa were not in
sufficient force to attack them. I therefore decided on another
expedition against them, as I was resolved to show them that the fall of
El Obeid had not discouraged us. Selecting two hundred and fifty old
soldiers, well inured to war, I had them trained in bayonet-exercise for
a few days preparatory to my departure, the date of which I kept
strictly secret.

Taking with me all the horses I could muster at the time, some seventy
in number, and instructing Wad Asi to keep me informed of events in Dara
during my absence, I advanced rapidly; and in two days reached the
neighbourhood of Bir Om Lawai, where both the Mima and Khawabir were
collected. We took with us only our arms and ammunition, as our
intention was to attack them, and then return. The instant, therefore,
the enemy came in view I gave the order to "fix bayonets," and, in spite
of the Bazingers and their guns, after a sharp fight of twenty minutes
we drove them off and dispersed them. A few of the Mima Arabs had got
amongst my men, but had all been bayoneted. I now ordered the horsemen
to take up behind them the regulars and pursue, and do their utmost to
discover where the water-melons were stored, as they would undoubtedly
make for them to quench their thirst. This order was well carried out,
the water-melons were destroyed, and a number of women and children
captured; whilst the tribesmen were scattered over the country in search
of water, and many died of thirst. The next day the enemy's camp was
burnt, and the women and children, who would otherwise have perished, I
ordered to be brought to Bir Om Lawai, which I now attacked. The enemy
here made a most determined defence, and I lost sixteen men killed, and
twenty wounded. This loss brought home the fact to me that I had very
few good regulars left, whilst the enemy, even if defeated, were daily
increasing in number.

The women and children brought from Bir Om Lawai I handed over to
Muslem Wad Kabbashi with directions that he should take them to Hilla
Shieria, and thence to their homes at Fafa and Woda. The trees at Bir Om
Lawai I ordered to be cut down and thrown into the wells, which I then
filled up with earth, and returned to Dara.

Being the solitary European in a foreign country, and in the midst of an
intriguing and unfriendly population, I had to resort to all sorts of
means to discover the plots and designs of those by whom I was
surrounded; and sometimes by money, or by gifts distributed in secret, I
was able to learn beforehand what was likely to occur, and take measures
accordingly. Through the help of my servants I utilised the services of
some of the profligate women of the town, who, as was the custom of the
country, prepared the native beer, or marissa, which is consumed in
large quantities by the lower classes in the brothels. These houses were
the rendezvous for every description of loafer, grumbler, and tattler
who wished to let his tongue wag without restraint, under the influence
of drink. My servants had told me that during these drinking-bouts they
frequently talked of the great religious rising of the Mahdi, for which,
it may be readily imagined, those present had not much sympathy. It was,
however, generally agreed that the Government, having placed so many
Christians and unbelievers in high positions, in which they were
employed in combating this religious reformer, the result must be bad.
The soldiers who frequented these houses of ill-fame often remarked, I
was told, that although they liked me, they attributed the losses we had
suffered in action to the fact of my being a Christian. I was perfectly
well aware that these views were not the outcome of the brain of the
Black soldier, who, as a rule, cares little about religion, but were
instigated by those who were doing their utmost to upset and nullify my
authority and make me unpopular with the men.

Now, on my return from Bir Om Lawai still more serious news awaited me.
My servants told me that in one of the brothels belonging to a woman in
my secret pay, daily meetings were held, in which the soldiers
discussed the project of wholesale desertion. On inquiry I found that
the principal instigators of these seditious meetings were
non-commissioned officers and men of the Fur tribe, who were reported to
be tired of this constant fighting, and who declared that the days of
Turkish authority were numbered. Their plan was to desert to Sultan Dud
Benga, the successor of Sultan Harun, who resided on the western slopes
of Jebel Marra. As the Fur section was the most numerous and powerful in
the battalion, the matter was a most serious one; I therefore sent for
the battalion commander, Adjutant-Major Mohammed Effendi Farag, and told
him what I had heard. He appeared greatly surprised, and assured me he
knew nothing of the matter, and that he should not fail to unearth the
plot and bring the ringleaders to justice. I ordered him to maintain the
strictest secrecy, and do nothing which would raise the slightest
suspicion. Whilst he was with me I sent for my servant and handed him a
bag full of money, telling him to take it to the woman and instruct her
to invite the various persons concerned to her house the next day, and
give them an exceptionally good entertainment at her own expense; at the
same time I told my servant to induce her to let him hide somewhere in
the house where he could overhear what was said; and that if she could
carry out these directions to my satisfaction I should reward her
handsomely. Soon after, my servant returned, telling me he had arranged
everything.

The day following the entertainment I again sent for the adjutant-major,
and was now able to communicate to him the names of six of the
ringleaders, whom I ordered him to instantly arrest; moreover I was able
to give him the details of the design and the actual date of its
intended execution. In half an hour he returned with the six prisoners,
whose hands were tied behind their backs. They comprised one sergeant,
three corporals, and two lance-corporals,--all of the Fur tribe. They
were accompanied by a crowd of kavasses and spectators, whom I sent off;
and then, in the presence of their commanding officer, I asked them
what instigated them to revolt against the Government. They absolutely
denied having any such intention, and assured me of their innocence.
"But," said I, "I know perfectly well you have been holding meetings in
the house of your compatriot Khadiga. I gave you plenty of time to come
to reason, but you grew daily more rebellious. Yesterday you were all
with Khadiga, drinking marissa, and you agreed that the day after
to-morrow you would execute your plan. Your object was to join with your
friends in the third, fourth, and fifth companies, take your arms, open
the western gate of the fort, and desert to Sultan Abdullahi, and, if
necessary, to have recourse to force to carry out your design. Did you
not assert yesterday, Sergeant Mohammed, that you had almost two hundred
men at your disposal? You see now I know everything, and it is useless
to deny it."

They listened in silence; they knew they had been discovered, and now
they freely confessed and asked for my pardon. "That is out of my
hands," I replied. "Go now with your commandant and confess openly that
you are guilty in the presence of the other officers of the battalion;
the law shall then decide." I then instructed the commandant to assemble
a court-martial, and to arrange that all the non-commissioned officers
should be present whilst the evidence was being taken; but at the same
time I warned him to let it be understood by all (as I was afraid that
some of the men might desert through fear) that other men implicated in
the case should not be punished, as I held the non-commissioned officers
alone responsible. The same afternoon the proceedings of the case, with
the full confessions, were brought to me, but without the sentence. I
therefore returned them to the court to give sentence, and soon
afterwards the commandant returned. The court had sentenced them to
death, but recommended them to mercy. In my opinion an example was
absolutely necessary, and though it was pain and grief to me, I
confirmed the sentence of death, which was ordered to be carried out at
once.

The regulars and irregulars were marched to an open space outside the
zariba; six graves were dug, and the condemned men, who showed no signs
of fear, after saying two rakas (short prayers), were led to the brinks
of the graves, and there shot dead by the six detachments. I spoke to
the assembled men, warning them that any one again found guilty of
mutinous or seditious conduct would undoubtedly suffer the same penalty,
and I sincerely trusted this would be the first and last case of the
kind that should ever be brought to my notice. I hoped we should all be
better friends in the future, and that times would improve. I then
ordered the garrison to march back to the fort.

I was upset and sad. I thought of the number of good men lost in our
fights, and now I was forced to take the most extreme measures to
maintain discipline. On all sides intriguers were doing their utmost to
impair my authority, quite ignoring the fact that should they succeed
they would be no better off,--indeed, times were to come when they would
be only too glad to obey the orders of the European they now so
detested. That evening I sent for Mohammed Effendi Farag, and questioned
him about the day's proceedings, and whether the men had been impressed
by the execution; remarking at the same time that the soldiers must
thoroughly understand their non-commissioned officers fully deserved the
punishment they received, and moreover that it was an act of great
leniency on my part not to take action against the other men implicated
in the plot. "Now, Farag Effendi," said I, "I want you to be thoroughly
true and straightforward with me. I know that you are friendly-minded
towards me, otherwise I should not certainly have asked you to come and
speak with me alone. Tell me, how am I regarded personally by the men
and the officers, excepting, of course, those who are selfishly seeking
their own interests?" "Although not accustomed to such severe
discipline," he answered, "they are fond of you, and you are beloved by
the men because you pay them regularly, which was not formerly the case.
Besides, they much appreciate your custom of distributing the plunder
amongst them. But this year we have had very heavy losses, and the men
are getting tired of continual fighting."

"But," said I, "we have to fight. I do not go out on expeditions to make
conquests or gain honour and glory; personally, I would much prefer rest
and peace." "Of course I quite understand that," said Farag Effendi,
"still, these losses, which might have been avoided, have greatly
affected the men. One man has lost his father; another his brother; many
have lost friends and relatives; and if this goes on they will become
disinclined to fight."

"I also quite understand that," I replied. "Although I have not lost a
father or brother, still I have lost friends; and I risk my precious
life equally with my officers and men. I am always with them, and am
just as liable to be struck by bullets and spears as they are." "They
are well aware of that," he answered, "and you should give them credit
for their obedience to foreigners, with whom they are always ready to
risk their lives." "Certainly I am a foreigner and a European," I said;
"and I have no reason to make a secret of it, or be ashamed of it. Is
this what they object to? Now, tell me truly?"

Mohammed Farag was one of my best-educated officers. He had studied in
various schools in Cairo, but had been taken as a conscript; he was one
of those rare men who acknowledge others' merits, and was always ready
to learn from those he thought better educated than himself. He was
neither fanatical nor religious, but he was a grumbler, and rather
hot-tempered. These were, I think, his only bad qualities, and they had
led him to commit some crime, for which he had been banished to the
Sudan.

When I now called upon him to tell me the truth he threw up his head and
looked straight at me and said, "Well, you wish me to tell you the
truth, then here it is: they do not object to you on account of your
nationality, but on account of your faith." At last I had drawn out of
him what I was so anxious to know.

"Why on account of my faith?" I asked. "During all these years that I
have been in Darfur they knew that I was a Christian, and yet no one
ever said a word to me." "Ah!" said he, "the times were very different
then, and much better; but now that this rascally Dongolawi has made a
cloak of religion, he has adherents everywhere who purposely incite the
people so as to attain their own evil ends. The idea has got about in
the battalion (I do not know who started it) that in this religious war
you will never be able to gain a victory, and that in every battle you
fight you will suffer great losses, till at length you yourself will be
killed. You can perfectly understand how an ignorant soldier would
credit all this, and how he would impute it to the fact of your being a
Christian. Our men are far too stupid to realise that our losses are due
to the vastly superior strength of the rebels, and that as we have no
chance of being relieved, so we must go on suffering defeat."

"Suppose that I now turned Mohammedan," said I, "would my men believe in
me and hope for victory? and would that give them more confidence in
me?" "Of course the men would believe you," said he,--"at least the
majority of them; have you not taken every opportunity of showing
respect to our religion, and even caused it to be respected by others?
They will trust you implicitly; but will you change your faith from
conviction?" he asked, smiling.

"Mohammed Effendi," said I, "you are an intelligent and well-educated
man; here conviction has nothing to do with the case. In this life one
has often to do things which are contrary to one's persuasions, either
by compulsion or from some other cause. I shall be quite content if the
soldiers believe me and abandon their silly superstitions. Whether
others believe me or not, is a matter of indifference to me. I thank you
most sincerely; keep our conversation entirely to yourself. Good night!"

Mohammed Effendi Farag now left, and after a few minutes' deliberation I
resolved to present myself to the troops the following morning as a
Mohammedan. I was perfectly well aware that in taking this step I
should be placing myself in a curious position, which could not fail to
be condemned by some. However, I made up my mind to do it, knowing that
I should thereby cut the ground from under the feet of these intriguers,
and should have a better chance of preserving the province with which
the Government had intrusted me. In my early youth my religious ideas
were somewhat lax; but at the same time I believed myself to be by
conviction as well as by education a good Christian, though I was always
inclined to let people take their own way to salvation. The simple fact
was that I had not been sent to the Sudan as a missionary, but as an
official of the Egyptian Government.

At sunrise the next morning, I sent for the adjutant-major, and ordered
him to have all the troops paraded and to wait for me; I then sent word
to Zogal to summon before me the Kadi, Ahmed Wad Beshir, and the chief
merchant, Mohammed Ahmed. When they came I talked to them on general
matters, and then told them to come on parade with me inside the fort,
only a few hundred paces from my door. Taking command of the parade, I
ordered the troops to form square, and, mounted on horseback, I then
entered it, accompanied by the officers, attendants, and officials.
"Soldiers!" said I, "we have passed through many hard times together;
the presence of danger shows what a man is made of. You have fought and
endured bravely, and I am certain you will continue to do so. We fight
for our master the Khedive, the ruler of this country, and for our
lives. I have shared with you your joys and your sorrows. Where danger
was to be faced I was there with you, and that shall ever be my place.
Although I am your chief, my life at such times is of no more value than
yours." "Allah yetawel umrak! Allah yekhallik!" (May God give you long
life! May God preserve you!) shouted most of the men. I then continued,
"I hear that I am considered a foreigner and an unbeliever. You also all
belong to different tribes; my birth-place is far away, it is true, but
I am not a foreigner. I am not an unbeliever; I am as much a believer
as you. Ashhadu inna la ilaha illallah wa inna Mohammed rasul Allah!" (I
bear witness that there is no God but God, and Mohammed is His Prophet).
On my uttering these words the soldiers raised their rifles, shook their
lances, and shouted out congratulations to me, whilst the officers and
officials advanced and shook hands with me. When order was restored, I
told them that I should openly attend prayers with them, and, ordering
the men to re-form, Farag Effendi gave the "present arms," and the men
then marched off to their quarters.

When everything was over, I invited Zogal Bey, my former companion, and
the officers to remain and partake of food and coffee with me; they then
bade me good-bye, assuring me of their delight, fidelity, and obedience.
They made as if they credited me with my convictions, and I gave them
equally to understand that I believed in the reality of their feelings
and sentiments (though I well knew how little they were really worth).
When they left I told Farag Effendi to select twenty of the best oxen
from our stock and distribute them amongst the men as "karama"
(sacrificial offerings), as well as one ox for each officer, at my own
expense.

The effect on the men of the step I had now taken was much greater than
I expected; there was no longer any reluctance to be sent on
expeditions, although our enemies were increasing daily in number and
strength.

It will be remembered that I had sent Gabralla and Ahmed Katong some
time before to Sirga and Arebu--a country which had been desolated by
war and was peopled by the ignorant Fur tribe--with instructions to
collect a force of his own people in these districts, and uphold the
Government authority there. Instead of doing so, however, he had sold
them as slaves to the Gellabas after a peculiar method of his own.
Despatching messengers to the Gellabas with orders to come to him at
once under pain of punishment, he then insisted on each of them marrying
three or four women, and instructed the latter to depart with their new
husbands, accompanied by their brothers and sisters. Many of the former
husbands having been killed in the wars, it happened that most of the
women thus disposed of were widows; but should any of them happen to
have husbands, the latter Gabralla threw into chains and compelled them
to work in the fields. For each human being thus made over to the
Gellabas he received a small sum of money. When these extraordinary
proceedings had been brought to my notice, I had ordered the roads to be
watched, and it was not long before a batch of newly married women and
their relatives was seized; I had sent for Gabralla and put him in
chains, and about twenty months later I had released him on bail; but
shortly afterwards he had disappeared, together with his guarantor, and
had joined the Beni Helba, who, after the murder of Afifi, had actively
joined in the revolt.

Next to the Rizighat, the Beni Helba was the most powerful tribe in
Darfur, and they soon began worrying the Tagu and Messeria Arabs, who
had up to now remained faithful, and lived in the neighbourhood of Dara.
I therefore resolved to attack them, but before doing so sent a message
to Beshari Bey Wad Bekir, warning him that he must make no more
incursions. Although my letter remained unanswered, it seemed that my
threatening attitude had had some effect, for the neighbouring tribes
were not further molested.

Merchants whom I paid to send me news from Kordofan informed me that
reinforcements were daily arriving at Khartum from Cairo, and that the
Government was hurrying on preparations for the despatch of the
expedition, under European officers, to retake Kordofan; whilst the
entire population without exception had joined the Mahdi, and were
determined to offer a powerful resistance.

In Darfur all the southern tribes were now in open revolt; but thanks to
our military posts and to the fact that the northern tribes had been in
contact with Egypt, from which they had derived considerable benefit
through the caravan routes, they had hitherto shown no hostility. Of
course it had been for long impossible to gather taxes in any part of
the country; I had, therefore, paid the troops out of our reserve
stores.

The Mahdi's continual victories were at last beginning to tell openly on
Zogal Bey, and I noticed a distinct change in his conduct, though he
still appeared loyal and submissive. It was abundantly clear to me that
in his heart he wished all success to his cousin, the Mahdi, because he
knew that, in that eventuality, he would be one of the first to reap
tangible benefits. He was a man much liked by the officials under him;
fairly well educated for a Sudanese, he was ever ready to do a favour
when his own pocket was not thereby touched, and he got the character of
being liberal. He was very wealthy, and kept up an enormous household in
great state. He kept an open table, and his popularity amongst the
officials was, I think, in a large measure due to the fact that, as
Acting Governor, he had freely pardoned past offences, and took no steps
to prevent them enriching themselves in all sorts of illicit ways.
Through his influence, most of his relatives had secured good positions
and become wealthy. He was, therefore, a man with whom I had to reckon
somewhat circumspectly. His popularity, coupled with the fact that he
generally concurred in and executed my orders, rendered an open split
with him undesirable, and would have certainly led to a diminution of my
authority; I was therefore inclined to let him alone for the present.
"Ebed en nar an el kotn wa enta tertah" (Keep fire away from cotton, and
you will be at ease), as the Arabs say, seemed to me to thoroughly apply
in this case, and to that principle I adhered.

Summoning Farag Effendi, Wad Asi, and Kadi el Beshir, all of whom were
loyal to Government, and prayed from their hearts for its success, I
communicated my plans to them, in the strictest secrecy, and obtained
their full concurrence. When they had left me I summoned Zogal, and now
conversed with him quite alone. "Zogal," I began, "you and I are
perfectly alone here, and God is our witness. For years we have eaten
bread and salt together, and although from the day I arrived I have
been your superior, our relations with each other have been rather those
of a friendly than of an official nature. I now ask you to do two things
for me,--trust me and render me a service."

"Well, Mudir umum" (Governor-General), he replied, "you are my superior;
tell me what you want and I shall obey." "Your cousin the Mahdi," said
I, "has now conquered Kordofan, El Obeid has fallen, and the entire
population has joined him. The country between us and Government is in
his hands. His extraordinary success has inclined your heart to him;
have you forgotten all the favours you have reaped from Government? Are
you unmindful of the distinction bestowed upon you by the Khedive, in
the shape of a decoration and rank obtained for you through the good
offices of the Government? Have you forgotten the duties required of you
from your position? Speak, is it not so?" "It is so," replied Zogal,
quickly; "the Mahdi is my cousin, and I cannot deny that our
blood-relationship has inclined me to him. Still, hitherto I have
faithfully performed my duties, and I trust I shall continue to do so in
the future."

"Speaking generally," I replied, "you have performed your duties well;
but I am told you are in communication with the Mahdi; why should you
hide this from me?"

"I do not communicate directly," replied Zogal, quickly; "but merchants
coming from Kordofan give me verbal messages from him, and I have sworn
to the bearers of these messages that I would not tell you; that is why
I kept it secret. But I assure you that they only referred to news from
Kordofan, and no attempt has been made to win me to his cause."

"Well, let it be," said I, "I do not want you to justify yourself; but,
tell me, what have you heard about this expedition which the Government
is preparing to send to retake Kordofan?" "I have heard," replied he,
"that a large expedition has arrived at Khartum, and that they are going
to try and reconquer the country." "Not only will they try, but they
will effect the reconquest of the country," I answered. "Now, Zogal,
you are a man of sense and intelligence: it must be perfectly clear to
you that, if compelled by circumstances, I am still sufficiently
powerful to make you harmless; but I do not think this would be an
advantageous step to take, and it would pain me deeply to take action
against a man like yourself, who has served the Government loyally for
many years, and has always befriended me. I will therefore discharge you
for the present, and you may now go to Kordofan with my full consent.
Religious movements, such as that now going on, have a certain amount of
glamour from a distance, and induce sympathy; but when examined more
closely, they are neither so seductive nor so alarming. I shall intrust
you with letters to the Government which I want you to send secretly to
Khartum, and which will inform them of the nature of your mission. As
the expedition will probably start for Kordofan next month, I want you
to do your utmost to prevent the Mahdi sending a force into Darfur or
despatching proclamations to the tribes inciting them to revolt. If you
can arrange this, it will be of advantage both to him and to you. Should
the expedition succeed, I will take all responsibility for your conduct
on my shoulders, and you need have no fear; but if the Mahdi is
successful,--which God forbid,--then we shall be entirely cut off from
all hope of relief, and will probably be compelled to submit, in which
case it shall be of advantage to him to have the country handed over in
fairly good condition. As a guarantee for the loyal conduct of your
undertaking, I shall keep your wives, children, and households in the
fort here. The Mahdi will respect this, and for your sake will not run
the risk of endangering their lives."

"I shall carry out your instructions," said Zogal, "and prove to you
that I am loyal. Are you going to write a letter to the Mahdi?"

"No," I replied, "because I do not want to have any dealings with him. I
know perfectly well that you will repeat the whole of this conversation
to him. Your cousin is very cunning, and, privately, will give me credit
for having spoken the truth, and he will, no doubt, make as much
capital as he can out of your mission; but as long as you hold loyally
to your promise, I shall take every care of your family, and although
you are nominally discharged, I shall continue to issue your pay in
full; but should you fail to keep to the conditions of this arrangement,
the guarantee will no longer hold good. I should like you to start as
soon as possible, and in three days I shall expect you to be ready; I
think that should be sufficient time."

"I would prefer to stay here with my own people," said Zogal; "but as
you wish me to perform this mission, and to put my loyalty to the test,
I shall carry it out, but with a sorrowful heart."

Sending now for Farag Effendi, Wad Asi, and the Kadi, in Zogal's
presence I told them of the arrangement we had made; they showed much
apparent surprise and excitement, and summoned Zogal to swear a solemn
oath of loyalty. He swore on the Kuran by the oath of divorce[8] that he
would adhere truly and faithfully to the agreement made between us.

I now wrote the necessary letters to the Government, giving a brief
account of the situation in Darfur; and three days later, Zogal,
accompanied by three servants, left Dara for El Obeid, _via_ Toweisha.
It was well known he was a relative of the Mahdi; he had therefore
nothing to fear, and I subsequently learnt he was received everywhere
with open arms.

I now set to work to build fresh batteries at the angles of the fort,
and collected all the corn I could find; but this short period of
tranquillity did not last long. Beshari Bey Wad Bekir, chief of the Beni
Helba Arabs, instigated by his father-in-law, Sheikh Taher et Tegawi,
planned a raid on Dara. In spite of my threatening letter, he had
attacked the Tagu and Messeria Arabs, killing a number of them, and
capturing many women and children. In consequence, I placed two hundred
and fifty regulars and one hundred Bazingers under the command of
Mattar, one of Zogal's relatives,--but I could only take twenty-five
horses, as most of them had been attacked by some sort of disease,--and
with this force I quitted Dara.

After three days' march we arrived at Amaké, where I was attacked by the
Beni Helba, under Beshari Bey, with whom was my old friend Gabralla;
they were in considerable force, but had few fire-arms, and we succeeded
in beating them off and dispersing them without much difficulty. The
next day they attacked us again at Kalambasi,--a march of a day and a
half from Amaké; but here again we put them to flight with equal ease.
Our insignificant losses on both occasions were ascribed by my men to
the efficacy of my Friday prayers with them, and not to the small number
of fire-arms possessed by our enemies. We now advanced on Hashaba which
was the head-Sheikh's village, turned him out, and then offered to
conclude peace with him. In reply to my letter, one of Beshari Bey's
relatives, named Fiki Nurein, arrived, asking my terms. I demanded two
hundred horses and two thousand oxen. He returned to his people, and
came back to me the following day, saying that they were prepared to
conclude peace, but thought my terms very hard; and as I was anxious to
settle matters without delay, I agreed to accept half the original
demand, on condition that they absolutely refrained from further
aggression, and agreed to send back the women and children captured from
the friendly tribes. I now returned to Dara; but Fiki Nurein arrived two
days later, and said that, to the great regret of Beshari Bey, his Arabs
had rejected the terms of peace, though he himself was perfectly
prepared to accept them. This change of front had been brought about by
Sheikh Tegawi's daughter, who had called her husband a coward for making
peace, and therefore, in honour bound, he was obliged to continue
fighting. Fiki Nurein told me he had been commissioned by Beshari Bey to
offer me his best thanks for having sent him some barley cakes covered
with sugar, when I had been obliged to turn him out of his house. It
happened that just before starting on my last expedition, Zogal's wife
had sent me some exactly similar cakes, which I had handed over to my
servants; as they were still untouched, I gave them to Fiki Nurein to
take to Beshari Bey with my compliments, and he left with a sorrowful
heart, feeling convinced that in the next fight he must be defeated.

I now left for Hashaba, and proceeded thence to Guru, about half a day's
march further on. On the way, the twelve mounted scouts in advance were
suddenly attacked by Beshari Bey alone, who broke through their line,
wounded one of them slightly, and then, turning to the left, he drew his
horse up between the scouts and my main body, at the edge of the forest
and about eight hundred yards from us. Advancing some three hundred
paces closer, I recognised him, but purposely did not shoot; instead, I
sent one of my boys, unarmed, to him, saying, "Isa, give my compliments
to Beshari Bey, and tell him that if he wants to show his wife how brave
he is, he should set about it in a different way; if he repeats this
manoeuvre he will certainly be killed." The road was fairly open, with
trees only here and there; and as we marched on I could see my servant
standing for a few seconds before Beshari Bey, and then returning
towards us; on reaching us, he said, "Beshari Bey sends you his
compliments; he says he has no wish to live any longer, and seeks
death." Deluded man, he soon found it!

Arriving at Guru, we constructed a zariba, and the owner of the village,
which was close by, now came forward and asked us for peace and
protection, which was of course given him. He was a Gellaba named Ahmed
Wad Serug, who had settled here many years before. He now told me that
Beshari's nephew Rahmatalla had, since yesterday, been seeking an
opportunity to come in and ask for pardon, but had been afraid to do so,
and was concealed in the forest close by. I told Ahmed to go out and
offer him pardon and peace and bring him in. That evening at sunset he
arrived, bare-headed and barefooted, and made the most profuse promises
of fidelity, saying he would do his utmost to induce his tribe to stop
fighting. He admitted that the majority of the Arabs were not anxious to
prolong the war, but were continually incited by Sheikh Tegawi.

Nothing happened the next day, but that evening Rahmatalla brought in
two Arabs with the news that Sheikh Beshari had collected all the
available horse and spear men, and intended attacking us in the morning.
Mohammed Bey Tia and Sultan Abakr el Begawi had just joined me with
forty horsemen; I had now, therefore, at my disposal some seventy
irregular cavalry. My zariba lay close to the wells in an open spot with
a good view in all directions. At sunrise the following morning I saw
the first signs of the enemy at the edge of the forest to the south.
Feeling sure that Beshari's ill-considered dash would make him attack
the zariba, I ordered the troops to move out about three hundred paces,
whilst I posted the cavalry on the flank and sent forward about twenty
horsemen to try and decoy the Arabs out of the wood. The latter had
barely started when I saw two mounted Arabs dashing at them full speed,
with lances lowered; they were Beshari Bey and his attendant. Before he
reached my men his horse stumbled and fell; and while his companion was
holding his horse to enable him to mount, my horsemen seized the
occasion to attack him, and, a thrown spear striking him full in the
eye, he fell, whilst his attendant was struck by a spear in the back and
killed. Meanwhile I had galloped up to the spot, and there I found
Beshari Bey lying dead: my men had twice plunged a huge spear into his
body. His son Abo, who had dashed out to his aid, was also wounded, but
succeeded in escaping, though two other Sheikhs who had accompanied
him--Shartia Habiballa and Et Tom--were killed. Seizing their horses, I
now called out to the regulars to advance; and on their arrival I
ordered each of the horsemen to take up an infantryman behind him and
pursue the Arabs, who I felt sure would not attempt to stand after the
death of their leaders. After a gallop of about two miles we came up
with the flying Arabs, and, ordering the regulars to dismount and fire,
I turned the horsemen against the mounted Beni Helbas. No quarter was
given, as my men were determined to avenge the death of Sheikh Afifi,
who had been killed near here.

After a few hours the rout was complete, and we now returned to the
zariba. On our way back we stumbled across Beshari's body, beside which
sadly sat his nephew, Rahmatalla. My officers at once asked to be
allowed to cut off his head and send it to Dara; but out of respect to
his nephew, who had pleaded yesterday for peace, I prevented them from
doing this, giving over the body to him, with a piece of calico in which
to enshroud it, and I myself attended the burial of my old friend who
had fought against us,--contrary to his own convictions,--and who,
seeking death, had now found it. In this engagement we lost two killed
and several wounded, amongst whom was the faithful Salama, who had taken
my letter from Om Waragat to Dara, and who was ever foremost in pursuit.

The following day I sent spies to Roro, Sheikh Tegawi's village, and
hearing he was there, I resolved to surprise him that night. I arrived
in the early morning, but found the nest empty,--my bird had flown: he
had evidently got wind of my coming; my men, however, seized all the
portable things they could find in his house, and then set it and the
village on fire.

I now returned to Guru. The disease of _filaria medenensis_
(guinea-worm) had broken out in the upper part of my leg and in both
feet, and caused me such excruciating pain that I could scarcely remain
in the saddle. Having crushed the Beni Helbas, it was useless for me to
remain out any longer; I therefore handed over the command to Mohammed
Bey Tia, and told him to take every occasion to chastise the Arabs, but
on no account to penetrate into the Taaisha country. The latter had
previously written to me expressing loyalty to the Government, and,
curious to relate, this tribe, to which Khalifa Abdullahi belonged, was
one of the few in the whole of the Egyptian Sudan which, in spite of
tribes revolting all around them, remained neutral. I now wrote to them
that should the Beni Helba attempt to take refuge in their country, they
might seize their flocks and herds, and I should not ask them to give
them back. Accompanied by ten men, I now returned to Dara.

Up to the present, Fasher had been left undisturbed, and hitherto the
tribes in the neighbourhood had not shown any open signs of hostility;
but the chief of the station at Om Shanga had refused to attend to my
order to return to Dara, having been bribed by the merchants to remain,
and had been attacked by the Arabs; he had succeeded, however, in
repulsing them, though the road was still cut, and one of my faithful
Sheikhs, Hassan Bey Om Haj, had passed over to the enemy.

About a fortnight later, Mohammed Bey Tia returned to Dara with a large
amount of plunder: exclusive of the quantities he had distributed on his
own account, he brought with him no less than three thousand oxen and a
few horses. The latter I made over to the men, and also divided between
them and the loyal Arabs a thousand oxen; another thousand I handed over
to Farag Effendi to keep with the general reserve; and the remaining
thousand I exchanged for corn and cotton stuffs.

In spite, however, of our success against the Beni Helba, our situation
was anything but satisfactory. All eyes were directed to the Mahdi, in
Kordofan; he had representatives and agents everywhere, who were
inciting the people to revolt. In the province of Dara, besides the
Taaisha, Messeria, and Tagu Arabs, those in the districts of Bringel and
Shieria were also quiet; but I ascribed this fact to the proximity of
the fort, for they were well aware that should they revolt, they would
be in the greatest danger.




CHAPTER VIII.

HICKS PASHA'S EXPEDITION.

    The Execution of Said Pasha and the Brave Defenders of El
    Obeid--Spread of Belief in the Mahdi's Divinity--Sheikh Sennusi
    is offered, but refuses, the Position of Mahdi's Khalifa--The
    Mahdi begins to organise his Government--The Spread of the
    Revolt in the Gezira--Criticisms on the Attitude of the Egyptian
    Government--The Despatch of Osman Digna to the Eastern
    Sudan--Hicks Pasha's Expedition enters Kordofan--Incidents on
    the March--Gallantry of Colonel Farquhar--The Diaries of
    Farquhar and Vizetelly--The Desertion of Gustav Klootz--The
    Mahdists harass the Expedition--The Final Attack on the Doomed
    Square--Incidents after the Battle--Extracts from O'Donovan's
    Diary--The Mahdi's Triumphal Entry into El Obeid.


After the capture of El Obeid the Mahdi turned all his attention to
increasing his power. His adherents on the river kept him very fully
informed of all that passed. He was aware that Abdel Kader had applied
to Cairo for reinforcements, which had arrived, and he did not doubt the
Government would do all in its power to reconquer its lost provinces;
that was his reason for so constantly preaching the Jehad, and reminding
his followers that a great war was impending, in which they would be
victorious.

Giegler Pasha had been successful at Duem in November, 1882, and at the
end of January, 1883, Abdel Kader Pasha had scored a signal success at
Maatuk. But the Mahdi paid little attention to these defeats; he was
principally concerned with the news that an expedition was being
prepared in Khartum, under European officers, for the reconquest of
Kordofan.

Meanwhile Mohammed Pasha Said thought it his duty to draw up a report
justifying the surrender of El Obeid, which he intended to send to
Khartum. He exposed the courage and endurance of the garrison who had
been at length obliged to capitulate, after having been more than
decimated by famine and disease, and he explained that they were still
thoroughly loyal, and longed for the success of the Government arms.
This document was signed and sealed by all the officers, Said Pasha and
Ali Bey Sherif heading the list, and also by Ahmed Bey Dafalla and
Mohammed Yasin; it was then given to an Arab, who was promised a large
reward if he took it to Khartum. Amongst the officers who signed was a
certain Yusef Mansur, formerly police officer at El Obeid, but who had
been dismissed by Gordon, sent to Khartum, and afterwards allowed to
return to El Obeid, where he had settled. Fearing that the report might
be intercepted, and that he might suffer with the others, he, to show
his fidelity and submission to the Mahdi, fell at Khalifa Abdullahi's
feet, confessed everything, and earnestly entreated for pardon, which
was granted. On his way home he met another officer, named Mohammed Bey
Skander, whom he also urged to seek the Khalifa's pardon; and the
latter, although he cursed his friend for his cowardice, thought that
now the secret was out he had better save himself, so he, too, begged
the Khalifa's forgiveness. The Arab letter-carrier was intercepted and
thrown into chains, and of course the occasion was taken advantage of to
spread far and wide the story that the Mahdi had discovered this plot by
direct inspiration from the Prophet. This gave him a ready pretext to
make away with his enemies. All those who signed the document were
seized, and, after consultation between the Mahdi and his Khalifas, it
was decided they should be banished. Said Pasha was sent to Aluba, where
he was handed over to the tender mercies of Ismail Delendok; Ali Bey
Sherif was sent to Nawai, Sheikh of the Hawazma; while Ahmed Bey Dafalla
and Yasin were sent to Madibbo at Shakka. Of the other officers, some
were exiled to the Nuba mountains, and others to Dar Homr. Yusef Mansur
and Mohammed Bey Skander were the only officers allowed to remain at El
Obeid, and the former, in order to mark his fidelity to the cause, was
made commandant of the Mahdi's artillery.

Soon afterwards, in accordance with his orders, Said Pasha was killed
with axes, and Ali Bey Sherif was beheaded, while Abdullahi, who had, on
the day after Ahmed Bey Dafalla's departure, taken his wife as his
concubine, despatched one of his relatives, Yunes Wad ed Dekeim, to
Shakka with orders to have both Dafalla and Yasin executed in the
presence of Madibbo. Such was the end of the four men who had so bravely
defended El Obeid, and in truth they deserved a better fate!

It was about this time that Fiki Minna, of the powerful Gowama Arabs,
having quarrelled with Abdullahi, thought to make himself independent;
but the Mahdi, knowing how serious would be a split, did not hesitate to
send a large force against him under Abu Anga, Abdulla Wad Nur and
Abderrahman Wad en Nejumi. Fiki Minna was surprised, seized, and
instantly executed, and the Mahdi lost no time in at once despatching
proclamations ordering the tribes to leave their districts and join him.
To these assembled multitudes he now preached more fervently than ever,
urging them to renounce the pleasures of this life, and think only of
the life to come. "Ana akhreb ed dunya wa ammer el akhera" (I destroy
this world, and I construct the world to come), was his endless theme.
To those who were obedient he promised pleasures in Paradise beyond all
the heart could conceive; but the disobedient he threatened with condign
punishment and hell-fire. Circulars written in this sense were
despatched far and wide, and the Emirs were enjoined to allow only those
to remain in their districts whose services were absolutely necessary
for the cultivation of the lands, but that all others must forthwith
immigrate to him and range themselves under his banners.

Men, women, and children now flocked in hundreds of thousands to El
Obeid to see this holy man and catch even a word of his inspired
doctrine; and the ignorant multitudes saw in his face and person what
they believed to be truly "a man sent from God."

Dressed only in a jibba and sirual (drawers), with a belt of gus, or
straw, round his waist, and wearing a Mecca takia (skull-cap), round
which was bound a muslin turban, he stood with all humility before his
followers, preaching of love to God and the cause, and of the necessity
of renouncing the vanities of this world. But once in his house it was
quite another matter; here he lived in a state of grandeur and luxury,
and became a slave to those passions for food and women to which the
Sudanese are so addicted. Should any women, young girls, and slaves be
captured, they were brought before him, and all the prettiest and the
best found a home in his harem; whilst the maid-servants, who were
versed in all the arts of the most approved Sudan cooking, were
relegated to his kitchen.

After the siege of El Obeid he considered whom he should appoint as his
fourth Khalifa, and decided that Mohammed es Sennusi, the most
influential religious Sheikh in North Africa, should be nominated; he
therefore despatched Taher Wad Ishak, of the Zaghawa tribe, with a
letter to him to that effect; but Sennusi treated the offer with scorn,
and left the letter unanswered.

The Mahdi now set to work to regulate his government. His administration
was based on very simple lines. First of all he established the Beit el
Mal, or treasury, over which he placed his faithful friend Ahmed Wad
Suleiman. In this treasury were deposited the tithes (ushr) and the
fitra and zeka (alms for the poor, two and a half per cent) on all booty
taken in war as well as confiscated property, and fines for theft,
drinking, and smoking. There was no system to regulate the revenue and
expenditure. Ahmed Wad Suleiman was, therefore, free to give what he
liked to whom he pleased.

Jurisdiction was placed in the hands of the Kadi, who was called by the
Mahdi "Kadi el Islam," and several assistants. Ahmed Wad Ali, who had
formerly been Kadi at Shakka under me, and who had been one of the
foremost in the storming of El Obeid, was the first to hold this high
position. Of course the Mahdi and his Khalifas reserved to themselves
the right to punish all crime--more especially anything connected with
doubt or suspicion as to the Divine nature of the Mahdi--with death. As
such judgments were in entire opposition to the sharia (or Moslem
religious law) as taught, the Mahdi strictly forbade the study of
theology, and ordered all books of this description to be burnt; the
Kuran alone being allowed to be read, though even this he did not permit
to be openly expounded.

Communication between the Mahdi and the inhabitants of the Gezira, who
now looked upon themselves as his most devoted adherents, was of course
frequent and detailed. He learnt of Abdel Kader's departure for Kawa and
Sennar with a large force in February. That town had been besieged by
Ahmed el Makashef; but the Pasha inflicted a defeat on him at Meshra ed
Dai, and had raised the siege. Saleh Bey had pursued the rebels as far
as Jebel Sekhedi, and had driven them into the waterless plain between
that place and Kawa, where numbers perished from thirst. This district
is still called by the local people, "Tibki wa teskut" (You cry and are
silent).

These defeats, however, in no way diminished the Mahdi's popularity;
they relieved the situation for the soldiers and officials, it is true,
but they only put off the evil day which was surely to come. Had
attention been paid to Abdel Kader Pasha's advice, the whole situation
in the Sudan might have been changed. He was against the despatch of a
large expedition to reconquer Kordofan, but recommended the
reinforcements coming from Cairo should be garrisoned in strong
defensive positions along the White Nile, and that for the time being
the rebels should be left to themselves. The military forces at his
disposal were quite sufficient to stamp out the revolt in the Gezira
(Island) between the Blue and White Niles, and to check the advance of
the Mahdists from the west. Had this plan been adopted, and the rebels
been left to themselves, it is more than probable the complete absence
of any regulated system of administration would have soon resulted in
discord breaking out, and gradually, at a later period, Government would
have been able to recover the ground it had lost. I certainly could not
have preserved authority in Darfur until that time; but even if that
province were lost, it would undoubtedly have been the lesser of two
evils. However, those at the head of the Government in Cairo thought
otherwise. The edict went forth that the prestige of the Government was
to be restored at all costs, and this was to be effected by an army
despatched under the English General Hicks, assisted by other European
officers; Abel Kader Pasha was recalled, and relieved by Ala ed Din
Pasha, formerly Governor-General of the Eastern Sudan. All these facts
were known almost at once to the Mahdi, and he took good account of
them.

Meanwhile Zogal had arrived at El Obeid, where he had received an
enthusiastic reception; one hundred guns were ordered to be fired in his
honour, and it was reported far and wide that Darfur had surrendered to
the ever-victorious Mahdi. Zogal's return to Darfur was considered quite
a sufficient guarantee for the preservation of the province as a
possession of the new ruler; consequently no force was despatched, and
the Mahdi now directed all all his attention to events on the Nile.

General Hicks shortly after his arrival proceeded with a portion of his
force to Kawa, inflicted a defeat on the rebels at Marabia (29 April,
1883), and killed Ahmed el Makashef.

Amongst the various emissaries despatched to different parts of the
country was Osman Digna, the former Suakin slave-dealer, who was
enjoined to raise the Jehad in the neighbourhood of his own town. The
Mahdi showed much astuteness in selecting this man, who subsequently
became so celebrated; and he rightly judged that a local revolt in the
Eastern Sudan would in all probability seriously embarrass the Khartum
Government, and delay, or perhaps put off altogether, the expedition
about to be sent to Kordofan. The details of the various encounters
between this redoubtable Emir and the Government troops are too well
known to require more than a mere passing reference here; suffice it to
say that the operations in the eastern districts, although successful to
the Mahdists, did not have the effect of causing the Government to alter
their intention in regard to the Kordofan expedition, and early in
September, 1883, the ill-fated Hicks left Khartum for Duem, on the White
Nile, where he joined Ala ed Din Pasha, who had been instructed to
accompany the expedition.

Surely the situation in Kordofan must have been misunderstood by the
Cairo authorities if they imagined that, by the despatch of this
expedition, they would succeed in overturning the Mahdi, who was then
supreme ruler of these western districts in which every man was his most
devoted adherent. Did they not realise that the annihilation of Rashed,
Shellali, and Lutfi, as well as the fall of Bara, El Obeid, and a host
of other towns had placed the Mahdi in possession of a far larger number
of rifles than those disposed of amongst Hicks's force of ten thousand
men? Were they not aware that these rifles were now in the hands of men
who thoroughly understood how to use them,--men who had been owners of
Bazingers, who were elephant and ostrich hunters, and had now at their
command contingents of reliable fighting material? Besides, were there
not now enrolled under the Mahdi's banners thousands of regulars and
irregulars who had been formerly in the Government service? Did they
imagine for a moment that all these men, when the chance came, intended
to desert and join Hicks? No; they seemed to realise nothing of this,
and, on completely wrong presumptions, they risked the lives of
thousands. Surely there were those amongst the Government advisers who
had sufficient knowledge of the Sudan to realise how fully the negro
proverb applied in this matter: "Illi beyakhud ummi hua abuya" (He who
marries my mother is my father). The Mahdi had conquered the country,
and had thus metaphorically married their mother; him, therefore, they
had fully accepted as their lord and master. What do those people care
about good actions and kindnesses previously done to them? I do not, of
course, deny that to this general rule there are not exceptions; yet
unquestionably my remarks, severe as they are, apply to the majority.

Ten thousand men in square formation, with six thousand camels in their
midst, were to march through districts overgrown with vegetation and
grass taller than a man's height; at most they could not see more than
two hundred or three hundred yards to their front, in the little open
patches where the sparse population had cultivated small clearings. They
must be ready at any moment for the attack of an enemy far more numerous
and as well armed as themselves, besides being infinitely better
fighters, and who to this day pride themselves on their bravery and
headlong dash. Along almost the entire route by which the army was to
march there were scarcely any wells, though plenty of stagnant
rain-pools; and when they had drunk up the water in them, what were they
then to do?

Had they adopted the northern road, _via_ Gebra and Bara, they would at
least have had the advantage of open ground and a good supply of water
at certain places, which, if insufficient, could, with modern
appliances, have been made amply sufficient for the whole force. At the
same time the support of the powerful Kababish tribe against the
Mahdists would have been assured, and the enormous train accompanying
the force could thus have been greatly diminished.

Six thousand camels, huddled together in the centre of a square,
presented a perfect forest of heads and necks; it was impossible for a
bullet fired by one of the enemy from behind a tree to altogether miss
this gigantic target: if it failed to strike in front, it would most
certainly have its billet in the centre or rear. Then again an advance
might have been made by detachments, and the great baggage-train left
under strong guard at either Duem or Shatt, the men merely advancing in
light marching order, clearing the road north, south, and west, and
establishing a military post whenever they had subdued a district. Of
course this plan would have taken some time--perhaps a year--to execute;
but there was no hurry. Then internal dissensions were rife,--Hicks and
his European officers on the one side; Ala ed Din Pasha, his officials,
and most of the Egyptian officers on the other.

And were not the troops composed mostly of the disbanded rabble of Arabi
Pasha's army, which had just been defeated by the British? General Hicks
no doubt fully understood matters; and, replying to a question put to
him by one of his friends at Duem as to what he thought of the
situation, he replied quietly, "I am like Jesus Christ in the midst of
the Jews." Still, he marched off; perhaps he thought that if he refused
to advance, his honour might be impugned.

Slowly moved the great mass of men and animals onward; the few
inhabitants who lived in this part of the country had long since fled.
Now and then in the far distance Arabs were seen watching the advance,
and then disappearing from view. On one occasion Hicks, looking through
his glasses, observed some horsemen amongst the trees; halting the
square, he ordered a division of irregular cavalry to advance and attack
them. A few minutes later they returned in hopeless confusion; they had
lost some killed and many wounded, and reported they had been attacked
by a greatly superior force. Hicks then despatched Colonel Farquhar with
half a battalion of regulars to examine the spot where the skirmish had
taken place. He reported that he found six cavalrymen lying dead, shot
in the back; they had been completely stripped, but nothing was to be
seen of the "powerful enemy;" there were the hoof-marks of at most ten
horses, and no doubt by these the cavalry division had been put to
flight.

The following day three horsemen again appeared in sight, when Colonel
Farquhar, accompanied only by his servants, galloped at them, killing
two, and bringing in the third a prisoner. I was told of both these
episodes by the survivors of the expedition, and they related how the
huge square crawled forward like a tortoise. Under the circumstances it
was impossible to send out the camels to graze; they had to eat anything
they could pick up in the square, and that was very little; of course
they died in quantities. They used to eat even the straw pads of their
saddles, and consequently the hard wood came down on their haunches and
galled them till they became in a truly pitiable condition; still they
dragged along, carrying not only their own loads, but those of their
broken-down companions in misery.

No doubt Colonel Farquhar, Baron Seckendorff, Major Herlth, the other
European, and some of the principal Egyptian officers did all they could
to help General Hicks in this critical situation, but the bulk of the
army appeared to be utterly regardless of the impending catastrophe.
Poor Vizetelly made his sketches, and O'Donovan wrote his diary; but who
was to send them home to those who were so anxiously awaiting them?

No sooner did the Mahdi learn that the expedition had started than he
again sent proclamations to all the tribes, summoning them instantly to
the Jehad, with the usual promises of reward to those who obeyed, and of
punishment to those who hung back. Quitting El Obeid himself, he
encamped under an enormous Adansonia tree near the town, and there he
awaited the approach of the Egyptians; his Khalifas and Emirs followed
his example, and soon a gigantic camp of tukuls (straw huts) was formed.
Reviews were held daily, war-drums beaten, guns fired, and men and
horses trained in all sorts of exercises, in preparation for the great
battle. The Emirs Haggi Mohammed Abu Girga, Omar Wad Elias Pasha, and
Abdel Halim Mussaid had already been sent to Duem to watch the enemy's
advance and cut their communications; but they were strictly forbidden
to attack the main body of the army. Before leaving, the real condition
of the advancing force was known, and they begged the Mahdi's permission
to attack it, but it was refused.

Shortly before the expedition reached Rahad, Gustav Klootz, a German
non-commissioned officer, formerly Baron Seckendorff's, and latterly Mr.
O'Donovan's, servant, foreseeing the almost certain annihilation of the
force, deserted, with the intention of joining the Mahdi. Ignorant of
the country, he wandered about, and the next morning was found by a
small party of Mahdists, who were about to kill him; but he endeavoured
to make them understand, in his broken Arabic, that he wanted to be
taken to the Mahdi, and, after robbing him of all he possessed, he was
sent under escort to El Obeid, three days distant. Although clothed only
as a servant, thousands of people crowded round to see this English
general who had come to ask for terms of peace. He was brought before
the Mahdi, and, through the other Europeans present, was questioned
about the state of the expedition. Gustav did not hesitate to say that
it could not be worse, and that neither courage nor harmony existed
amongst its ranks. Naturally this news greatly pleased the Mahdi; but
Gustav added that the army would not submit without a fight, and that in
all probability it would be annihilated. Immensely cheered by this
information, the Mahdi now summoned Gustav to be converted to Islam, in
which he of course readily acquiesced, and he was then handed over for
further care to Osman Wad el Haj Khaled.

So confident of victory had the Mahdi become after Gustav's statement
that he had hundreds of summonses written out and distributed along the
road, calling on Hicks and his officers to surrender. Of course they
were left unanswered; but at the same time they had their effect on many
who were concerned about their own safety. Others, on the contrary, used
these papers in a manner which so irritated the Mahdi that for long he
visited his wrath on the unfortunate survivors who had dared to put to
such contemptuous uses documents in which divinely inspired words were
written.

[Illustration: A Dervish Emir.]

Prior to his departure from Duem, Hicks had been informed by the
Government that he would be joined _en route_ by six thousand men from
Jebel Tagalla, as well as some hundreds of Habbania Arabs; and he daily
expected to meet these, and thus revive the flagging courage of his
demoralised men. But he waited in vain,--not a man came to him, nor did
he ascertain a word of news. On quitting Rahad he advanced to Aluba in
Dar Ghodayat, in the hope of obtaining an abundant supply of water
there; and on the 3rd November he reached Kashgeil, some thirty miles
southeast of El Obeid.

Meanwhile the Mahdi had worked up his fanatical followers to a pitch of
the wildest enthusiasm, and had told them the Prophet had announced to
him that on the day of battle they would be accompanied by twenty
thousand angels, who would attack the unbelievers. On 1st of November he
quitted El Obeid for Birket, where his followers, uniting with the force
previously despatched to watch the square, now worried the tired and
thirsty Egyptians incessantly. On the 3rd November Abu Anga and his
Black Jehadia, concealed in the thick forest and broken ground, poured a
continuous fire on the square, which was forced to halt and zariba; and
here human beings and animals, huddled together, offered a target which
none could fail to hit. Every moment a weary man, horse, camel, or mule
would fall to the bullet of an invisible enemy; and for hours this
decimation continued, whilst the wretched troops suffered agonies from
thirst, and were unable to move in any direction. It was not till the
afternoon that the enemy drew off just out of rifle range, and from this
position kept careful watch on the square, as a cat would play with a
mouse. Their losses had been insignificant; one or two Emirs, amongst
them the son of Elias Pasha, had fallen,--and no wonder! his fanaticism
had induced him to dash up almost alone to within a yard of the zariba.
How terrible must have been the feelings of poor Hicks! Instead of
water, his wretched men received a hail of lead,--yet only a mile off
there was a large pool of rain water; but none in that doomed square
knew the country, and even had they known, it was now too late to reach
it. Abu Anga and his men, under cover of darkness, crept close up to the
zariba, and all night long poured an incessant fire into this seething
mass of men and animals. Utterly demoralised, poor Hicks's troops
moaned, "Masr fein, ya Sitti Zenab dilwakti waktek!" (Where is Egypt!
Oh, our Lady Zenab, now is your time to help us!) while the hardy
Blacks, lying flat on the ground within a few yards of the zariba,
unharmed by the shower of bullets which passed overhead, would answer
back "Di el Mahdi el muntazer" (This is the expected Mahdi).

The next morning (4th November), Hicks continued the advance, leaving
behind him a heap of dead and dying and a few guns, the teams of which
had been killed; but ere he had proceeded a mile, he was attacked by at
least one hundred thousand wild fanatics concealed amongst the trees. In
a moment the square was broken, and a wholesale massacre took place. The
European officers, with a few Turkish cavalry, alone attempted to make a
stand under the wide-spreading branches of a large Adansonia tree; but,
attacked on all sides, they were eventually killed almost to a man. The
heads of Baron Seckendorff (who wore a full, light-coloured beard) and
General Hicks were cut off and sent to the Mahdi, who at once summoned
Klootz (now known as Mustafa) to identify them; but this seemed hardly
necessary, as it was well known they had been killed.

With the exception of two or three hundred who had escaped death by
hiding themselves under the heaps of dead bodies, the entire force had
been annihilated. Little mercy was shown; a few of the survivors were
pardoned, but the majority of them were subsequently executed. Ahmed ed
Dalia, the Mahdi's executioner, told me that he and Yakub, Khalifa
Abdullahi's brother, with a few hundred horsemen, came across a party of
about one hundred Egyptians who showed fight. Through Dalia, Yakub sent
them a message that their lives would be spared if they gave up their
arms; but no sooner had they done so than he and his men, calling them
unfaithful dogs, charged, and killed every one. One Egyptian owed his
life entirely to his presence of mind; becoming separated from the rest,
he fled, but was followed by some Gellabas, who caught him up. "Do not
kill me, O friends of the Mahdi," he cried, "I know an art which will
make you all wealthy men." Their cupidity now aroused, they spared him,
and promised to do him no harm if he would tell them his secret.
"Certainly I shall do so," he answered. "You have spared my life, you
deserve to know my secret; but I am too exhausted to tell you now, take
me before your master the Mahdi, whom I long to behold; let me seek his
pardon, and then I shall have rest and be able to make myself useful to
you." Taking him in their midst, they brought him before the Mahdi, to
whom they explained he was a man who had long since been convinced of
his Divine mission, but had not succeeded in coming to him before; he
was pardoned, and swore to become henceforth his most devoted adherent.
No sooner was he dismissed from the presence of the Mahdi, than his
captors surrounded him, and insisted on knowing his secret. Sitting on
the ground, he now said quite simply, "I used to be a cook, and know how
to make very good sausages." Irritated and insulted to a degree, the men
would now have killed him; but he at once made his way to the Mahdi,
told him what had occurred, and begged for his protection. The Mahdi
laughingly called his would-be persecutors his compatriots, and ordered
them to take every care of their fellow-countryman.

[Illustration: The Death of Hicks Pasha.]

After this immense victory, the Mahdi and his Khalifas now returned with
their troops to Birket, literally drunk with success.

Several Emirs and their men had been left on the battle-field to collect
the plunder and bring it to the Beit el Mal. The thousands upon
thousands of dead bodies which lay piled up in heaps, were divested of
every stitch of clothing. Some time later the note-books of Colonel
Farquhar and Mr. O'Donovan were sent to me. I read all they contained
most carefully, and terribly sad reading it was! They both wrote much
about the discord that existed, and of the quarrel between General Hicks
and Ala ed Din Pasha. Farquhar attacked his chief somewhat severely for
his military mistakes. Both had foreseen what had now occurred, and
Farquhar reproached him bitterly for having ever started with a force
whose condition and _morale_ were such as to warrant certain disaster.
The European officers got little assistance; apparently one of the few
Egyptian officers who helped them was a certain Abbas Bey. One passage
in Colonel Farquhar's diary I well remember; he wrote, "I spoke to Mr.
O'Donovan to-day, and asked him where he thought we should be eight days
hence? 'In Kingdom-Come,' was his reply." O'Donovan's journal was also
written in much the same strain; he was greatly annoyed about Klootz's
flight, and quoted it as an instance of the general feeling existing in
the force. "What must be the condition of an army," he remarked, "when
even a European servant deserts to the enemy?" In another passage he
wrote, "I make my notes and write my reports, but who is going to take
them home?"

Some fifteen days afterwards, when all the plunder had been deposited in
the Beit el Mal, the Mahdi returned to El Obeid. Besides the guns,
machine-guns, and rifles, a considerable sum of money had been found;
but quantities of loot were carried off by the Arabs, in spite of the
barbarous punishments for theft enacted by Ahmed Wad Suleiman: it was no
uncommon thing for a thief to have both his right hand and left foot cut
off. The cunning Blacks had secreted quantities of arms and ammunition
in the forests and in their own camps, which at a later period proved
very useful to them.

Nothing could have exceeded the savage grandeur of the Mahdi's triumphal
entry into El Obeid after the battle. As he passed along, the people
threw themselves on the ground and literally worshipped him. There is
not the slightest doubt that by his victory at Shekan, the Mahdi had now
the entire Sudan at his feet. From the Nile to the Red Sea, from
Kordofan to the frontiers of Wadai, all looked to this holy man who had
performed such wonders, and they eagerly awaited his next move. Those
who had been already convinced of his divine mission were now of course
more than ever his ardent supporters, and spread his fame far and wide;
those who had doubted, doubted no longer; and the few who in their
hearts understood the imposture, decided amongst themselves that if
Government was not strong enough to send a force sufficient to uphold
its authority even in the Nile districts, they must, against their own
convictions, side with the stronger.

Several Europeans and some Egyptians living in the large cities and
towns now realised the seriousness of the situation, and lost no time in
making the best of their way out of the doomed country, or at any rate
despatched north as much as they could of their portable property, well
knowing that it was impossible to stay any longer in the Sudan, across
which the Mahdi's hands now stretched from east to west.




CHAPTER IX.

THE FALL OF DARFUR.

    Dara besieged by Madibbo--I make a Successful
    Counter-Attack--The Overthrow of Darho--I decide to remain at
    Dara--The Defeat of Kuku Agha--A Strange Expedient for
    concealing Letters--An Armistice proposed and accepted between
    Myself and the Besiegers--I resort to Stratagem to gain
    Time--Zogal writes from El Obeid, and describes the Annihilation
    of the Relief Expedition--I review the Situation and decide to
    surrender--Interview with Zogal at Shieria--The Mahdists enter
    Dara--Madibbo and his War-drums--Horrible Tortures inflicted on
    the Inhabitants who had concealed Money--The Siege and Fall of
    El Fasher--Letters from Egypt--The dreadful Fate of Major
    Hamada--The Fall of Bahr el Ghazal--I leave for El Obeid.


By this time I had recovered from my disease (_filaria medenensis_), and
felt strong enough to undertake another expedition; but the number of my
trusted followers had sadly diminished, and our stock of rifle
ammunition was getting very low. Said Bey Guma still affirmed that it
was impossible for him to send me any from Fasher, owing to the fact
that the Zayedia and Maheria Arabs had begun to show signs of defection,
and had been raiding cattle in the neighbourhood of the town, which they
had refused to restore.

All my hopes were now centred in the success of the Hicks expedition.
Fortunately at that time I knew nothing of the route they had chosen,
nor of the demoralised condition of the force. For almost a year I had
received no news direct from Khartum, and latterly, in order to keep up
the spirits of the men, I had to have recourse to stratagem, by
asserting that I had received news of great victories for the Government
forces. These scraps of news I of course concocted myself, and wrote out
in the form of messages, which when received were read out with great
_éclat_ before the assembled troops, and were greeted by the salute of
guns and general rejoicings. As a matter of fact, about this time I did
receive a little slip of paper from Ala ed Din Pasha, informing me that
His Highness the Khedive had officially appointed me commandant of the
troops in Darfur, and that it was the intention of the Government to
send a strong force to chastise the rebels and re-establish authority. I
despatched copies of this note to Fasher and Kebkebia, with orders that
it should be read publicly and salutes fired. I gave the bearer of the
letter a public reception, and loaded him with presents; he announced
that when he left Khartum the expedition was being prepared, and
described the force as certain to be victorious. Those who really knew,
hesitated to credit the glowing accounts of the appearance of the
troops; but at the same time their hearts were full of glad expectation.

A few days later, Khaled Wad Imam, whom I had sent to Kordofan to
collect news, returned, and gave me a verbal message from Zogal, as the
latter thought it inadvisable to write; he sent me his best regards, and
confirmed the news just received as to the intention of the Government
to despatch an expedition against the Mahdi. Khaled, however, told me
privately that many refugees had reached El Obeid from Khartum, and had
reported that several vultures had been seen hovering over the troops
when they were out practising manoeuvres; and that this was a most
unlucky omen for their success. He then proceeded to give me a detailed
account of the Mahdi and his doings, and after a time I had little doubt
that at heart he had become one of his adherents; but I took good care
not to let him see what I had discovered, and thanked him for his
loyalty and good service; at the same time I gave secret instructions
that he should be carefully watched. A few days afterwards a man was
intercepted wandering off to Shakka, bearing a letter from Khaled to
Madibbo, in which he told him to be prepared to meet him shortly, in
order to aid him in his enterprise. I was also informed by my servants,
who were friendly with Zogal's household, and to whom I gave money, in
order to give the latter presents, that Khaled was really Zogal's secret
and confidential agent, and was always at his house in the fort, where
he made himself completely at his ease; that he had privately warned
Zogal's wives to be ready to fly with him, as the people in Dara were
soon to endure hard times; but that the women had refused to obey the
summons, and had made a great commotion.

I now ordered Khaled to be seized and brought before me, he admitted he
had received Zogal's orders to take his wives away to some safe refuge
beyond my jurisdiction, and his two special ones he had ordered to be
brought to him in Kordofan. It was on this account he had written to
Madibbo.

It was now abundantly clear to me that Zogal, influenced by his
relative's enormous successes, had definitely decided to join him, and
had thus broken the solemn agreement between him and myself. I now sent
for Zogal's brother, Fiki Nur, and some of his relatives, and in the
presence of the Kadi, the commandant and officers, I openly explained
the situation, telling them that their relative was now disloyal to
Government and had broken his promise, and that therefore I considered
they were all of his opinion and in consequence quite untrustworthy. Of
course they denied it; but I had them all arrested, placed Khaled in
chains, and had his and Zogal's property confiscated and removed to the
Beit el Mal, while that of the other persons arrested was sequestrated.

Sending the Kadi to Zogal's house, I told him to inform the women that
they should stay where they were, and I should have them cared for as
before; his Bazingers, however, I incorporated with the Government
forces. Amongst those arrested was Zogal's son-in-law, Idris, who, being
of a different tribe, I proposed releasing; but he refused, and said he
preferred to go to prison with his relatives. Before being marched off,
he asked to be allowed to speak to me privately, and then told me that,
according to the custom of the country, it would be most dishonourable
for him not to go to prison with the rest of the family, but he wished
to assure me of his absolute loyalty. He then informed me that Zogal,
before his departure, had secretly assembled the three officers whom I
imagined to be most loyal to me, and they had sworn to him that should
he send them news that Mohammed Ahmed was really the Mahdi, they would
all join him. I thanked him for this most important information, the
truth of which I had little reason to doubt, and at his own request I
allowed him to go to prison with the rest.

My difficulties were now increasing daily, one might almost say hourly.
Zogal's disloyalty did not disturb me very much, as I had long suspected
it; but I was greatly put about by the unsatisfactory news of the state
of the expeditionary force. Zogal was, I knew, an astute man; had the
news from Khartum been really disquieting to the Mahdi, I felt sure that
he would have stayed at El Obeid, according to our arrangement, to watch
events; but now he had intentionally broken faith with me. Could it be
that he had been befooled by the Mahdi's doctrines and preaching? I wish
I could have thought this possible, but I knew him too well. He was, so
to speak, playing his cards, with the absolute conviction that he would
win; and so he did.

Madibbo now collected a force of horsemen and Bazingers, and advanced to
Karshu, a day's journey south of Dara, where he desolated the country
and derided the Beni Helba for their timidity. Taking fifty horsemen and
one hundred and fifty regulars, I marched out from Dara at night and
surprised Madibbo at sunrise. He was completely unprepared for this
sudden attack, and barely escaped with his life on a horse which he
mounted barebacked; but his entire camp fell into my hands, and we
captured his well-known copper drums. Unfortunately Mohammed Bey Tia,
one of my best and most faithful officers, and who was ever to the front
in pursuit, was shot dead by some Bazingers hidden behind the trees; I
had also a few men killed and several wounded. But although we had
scored a success, we could not be said to have inflicted a heavy defeat
on our enemies; we had brushed them off as one drives flies off meat,
only to let them settle again.

A few days after my return to Dara news arrived that the Mima Arabs had
attacked the military post on the road to Fasher, the garrison of which
had been reduced by Said Bey Guma to thirty men, all of whom had been
killed. Said Bey informed me that he had despatched three hundred and
fifty regulars and four hundred horsemen under Omar Wad Darho to
chastise them and re-occupy the post; but the messenger who brought this
letter, and who had the greatest difficulty in reaching me, reported
that the Arabs were collected in considerable force, and were ready to
attack the expedition on its arrival.

A few days later, the faithful Muslem Wad Kabbashi, Sheikh of Hilla
Shieria, brought me the mournful news of the complete overthrow of Darho
and his men. It appeared that Darho had advanced against the Mima at
Woda, where they had been joined by the Khawabir, Birket, and Manasera
Arabs. He had begun the attack with his horsemen, who, driven back,
retired in headlong flight on the infantry square, followed by an
overwhelming number of Arabs; the regulars, firing alike on friend and
foe, were scattered by this living avalanche, and twelve only had
escaped the slaughter, while of the four hundred horsemen, one hundred
and eighty were saved; the gun, arms, and ammunition were all lost, and
the road between Fasher and Dara was now completely cut.

It was of immediate necessity to communicate with Fasher; but I had the
greatest difficulty in procuring messengers to take a letter to Said Bey
Guma, ordering him--if he had not already done so--to at once make all
preparations for defence, buy up all the available corn in the town,
and, if possible, carry out my previous instructions to withdraw the Om
Shanga garrison.

About a month previous to this event I had proposed to my officers to
abandon Dara and retire on Fasher; but my suggestion had been
unanimously vetoed. The question had of course two sides to it, and as I
clung ardently to the hope that the expedition from Khartum would
succeed in relieving us, I did not force the project. Should the
Egyptian army defeat the Mahdi, then the whole of Darfur would be saved;
if, on the other hand, it should fail, then how could we at Fasher stand
against the whole Sudan? My ammunition was running very low, and I was
puzzled as to how to replenish my waning stock. I had sufficient powder
and shells, but lead was my difficulty. However, I refilled the empty
Remington cases, by melting down the bullets for the percussion guns and
muskets, of which a small quantity still remained, and I also made
copper bullets out of the supply of that metal which was in store from
the mines of Hofret en Nahas, and which I augmented by buying up the
bracelets and anklets of the Black women who much affected copper
ornaments.

Muslem Wad Kabbashi now brought in news that Abo Bey, at the head of
some Mima and Khawabir Arabs, was encamped near Shieria. I was
unfortunately at this time suffering from fever, and was too weak to sit
on a horse; but I could think of no one to whom I could intrust a large
command, and therefore decided to send Kuku Agha, a brave Sudanese, with
only eighty men to attack Abo Bey, then only eight hours distant from
Dara. Muslem Wad Kabbashi offered his services as guide, and they left
that evening at sunset with our best wishes for their success. The
following evening Wad Kabbashi returned wounded, accompanied by only ten
men. "Where are Kuku Agha and the soldiers?" said I, in a state of
considerable agitation. "Scattered or killed," he calmly answered. "But
do not distress yourself, several are following after me; I left in all
haste to bring you the news." "But how did it occur? Tell me," I said.

He now seated himself on the edge of my carpet, so as not to soil it
with his blood, and began: "We marched all night with only one short
halt; but Abo Bey, who had been largely reinforced the previous day, got
news of our coming, and, ordering his camp-fires to be lighted, he went
into ambush on our line of march. Towards dawn he attacked us suddenly,
when we were quite unprepared. In the dark I became separated from Kuku
Agha, who was making for some rising ground to the north, whilst I began
retiring to the south, with a few soldiers who had collected around me.
Alternately fighting and retiring, I at last reached here, and I hope
that Kuku Agha is following with the remainder of the men."

Two days passed in anxious expectancy; only four men came in, and there
was now no doubt that the rest had perished.

Omar Wad Darho's defeat, followed by this last disaster now greatly
encouraged the rebels; and those who had been previously held back by
fear, joined _en masse_. Muslem Wad Kabbashi brought his family into
Dara, saying he preferred to conquer or die with us. Hassan Wad Saad
Nur, whose pardon, it will be remembered, I had procured in Khartum, and
whom I had brought with me on my own guarantee to Dara, to whom I had
given a house just outside the fort, and, when his horse died of
disease, I had given him another, and who, being a native of the place,
I had intrusted with procuring news, now sadly disappointed me.
Unmindful of all the benefits I had bestowed on him, under the pretence
of visiting a relative he mounted the horse I had given him, and rode
straight to El Obeid, where he became one of the Mahdi's faithful
followers.

Madibbo, enraged at the loss of his precious war-drums, which in the
Sudan counts as a disgraceful defeat, now collected all his Arabs, and
sent word to his neighbours to join him in laying siege to Dara. For a
long time past, communication with Khartum had become impossible, the
Mahdists were fully on the alert, and any men I attempted to send with
letters were invariably intercepted. On one occasion, when fighting
against the Beni Helba Arabs, I managed to send a letter to Egypt by a
caravan marching along the Arbaïn road to Assiut. But now the various
methods of concealment which I had successfully employed, such as fixing
letters between the soles of shoes or sandals, soldering them into the
inside of ablution water-bottles, or placing them in hollow spear
staves, had all been discovered. One morning, whilst inspecting the
fort, I noticed some soldiers giving a donkey medical treatment. It was
lame in the fore-leg; and, having thrown it on the ground, they
proceeded to make an incision in the shoulder, in which they placed a
small piece of wood, so as to tighten the skin, across which they made
several transverse slits, and then, taking out the stick, poured in
powdered natron. The idea at once struck me that I might conceal a
letter in this way under the skin. I therefore procured a good-sized
donkey, and, in the privacy of my own house, I repeated the operation I
had just seen performed, inserting in the first cut a small note
describing the situation, which I enclosed in a goat's bladder. The
entire size of the communication in its cover did not exceed that of a
postage stamp. I then sewed up the wound with silk thread, and the
donkey walked without the smallest difficulty. The man to whom I
intrusted this mission subsequently told me that he had delivered the
packet to Ala ed Din Pasha at Shatt a day or two before the expedition
started for El Obeid, and the latter had told the messenger a reply was
unnecessary, but that he should accompany the force to El Obeid, whence
he would despatch him to me with a letter.

The various tribes, obedient to Madibbo's summons, had now collected a
day's march from Dara. Abdullahi Om Dramo, Sheikh of the Messeria Arabs,
alarmed that he should lose his property, had unwillingly joined
Madibbo, and it was through him I received this information. Ismail Wad
Barnu and Bakr el Begawi had also come to Dara with their families for
protection, and had constructed a small zariba for themselves about six
hundred yards from the fort, which the rebels had attempted one night to
attack, but had been driven off, with the assistance of some soldiers.
I was now, however, in a sorry plight as regards ammunition. The total
in charge of the men and in the magazines amounted to twelve packets per
rifle; and if I had attempted to risk a fight, at least half would have
been at once expended. Relief I knew was still far off, and the question
was how to hold out till then with this slender quantity of cartridges.
In order to gain time, I now had recourse to the following stratagem.
Taking aside Om Dramo, whom I knew to be loyal to me, I told him to go
to the rebels, and as it were on his own initiative, and without my
knowledge, suggest to them they should propose an armistice. The same
evening Om Dramo returned, and informed me that the enemy were in great
strength, that the Mahdi had summoned them to the Jehad, and they called
upon me to surrender. I told him to return to them and say that I was
prepared to capitulate; but I would not agree to my life or that of my
soldiers being intrusted to the hands of Arabs against whom I had been
continuously fighting for more than a year. I said, however, that should
the Mahdi despatch a special delegate to me, I was ready to make the
necessary conditions of peace. Om Dramo left me with the promise that he
would do his utmost to induce them to accept my proposition, and I also
agreed that should a parley be necessary, I was prepared to meet them
under the large Adansonia tree, a few hundred yards from the fort. Some
hours later Om Dramo returned radiant, and told me that the Arab chiefs,
who had now been appointed Emirs, fully concurred in my proposal, and
were ready to meet me under the tree; Madibbo had alone dissented, and
urged the siege to be continued until I should be forced to surrender.

I arranged for the meeting to take place at sunrise the following
morning, and made a solemn oath to Om Dramo that should we not arrive at
an understanding, the lives of all the Emirs would be perfectly safe,
and they should be allowed to return unmolested; as an equivalent I
demanded that the Emirs should come to the meeting quite alone.

Early the next morning my faithful intermediary arrived, and told me the
chiefs had come; I therefore at once went out, accompanied only by my
two servants. The Kadi and Farag Effendi begged to be allowed to go with
me; but I thought it would give the Arabs greater confidence if I went
alone. I therefore told them to wait in one of the batteries about four
hundred yards from the tree.

On arrival at the rendezvous, Om Dramo brought forward his friends Abo
Bey, of the Berti tribe, Mohammed Bey Abu Salama, of the Maalia, Helu
Wad Gona, of the Beni Helba, and Hamed Wad Nuer, of the Habbania. All of
them shook hands with me cordially, and we took our seats just as if
nothing had happened between us. I now ordered my boys to hand round
dates, not alone with the object of showing them hospitality, but also I
wished them to know that I still indulged in these luxuries, in spite of
the hard times. I then inquired for Madibbo, and they replied that he
had refused to come to the meeting, but perhaps if we arrived at some
definite arrangement, he might join the majority. I explained that I was
ready to submit to the Mahdi, but I had no intention of surrendering
myself and my people to the Arab tribes. "Tell me now," said I, well
knowing how jealous they were of each other, "to which of you should I
hand over my arms and my horses?" They replied that they were just as
before; that is to say, each one head of his own tribe, independent of
the other, but at the same time all fighting in the common cause of the
Mahdi. After a long palaver, it was at last agreed that I should send a
letter to the Mahdi, announcing my submission, by the hands of one of my
own people, who should be accompanied by two of their delegates. All
should proceed together to El Obeid. On Abo Bey's suggestion,
hostilities at Om Shanga were to cease, and it was further agreed that
the delegate sent by me should be either a Turk or an Egyptian. I
suggested a certain Mohammed el Gretli, who was well known to them. He
had formerly been a kavass, and later a leader of twenty-five horsemen;
he had a light complexion, long fair moustache, and had also been
employed as tax-collector; in him the Arabs concluded they had secured
an influential man. Pending the Mahdi's reply, it was agreed there
should be an armistice, during which the various tribes should retire to
their districts, and all hostilities should cease, while the ground in
front of the fort should be utilised as before as the market-place, in
which all business transactions could be conducted without let or
hindrance. By this arrangement I hoped to gain time to gather a
considerable supply of corn, cattle, etc. We both solemnly swore on the
Kuran to each adhere faithfully to our respective pledges, and then
separated, to meet again at two o'clock to read the letter to the Mahdi
and despatch it forthwith.

When I returned, the Kadi and Farag Effendi were greatly pleased with
the agreement; and, directing Gretli to be ready to start, I proceeded
to write two letters, one to the Mahdi, and the other to the garrison of
Om Shanga.

At the appointed time we again met under the tree; but Madibbo was still
absent, and on inquiry I was told that he entirely disagreed with the
arrangement, and charged me with merely attempting to delude and cheat
them. All the other Emirs, however, declared they were perfectly ready
to adhere to the conditions to which we had sworn, and that if Madibbo
did not care to join, he was free to stay away. My letter to the Mahdi
ran as follows:--

    In the name of the Most Merciful God. From the slave of his God,
    Abdel Kader Salatin [Slatin] to Sayed Mohammed el Mahdi. May God
    protect him and confound his enemies! Amen! For a long time I
    have been defending the province which the Government confided
    to my care, but God's will cannot be fought against. I therefore
    hereby declare that I submit to it (God's will) and to you,
    under the condition that you send one of your relatives, with
    the necessary authority to rule this country, and to whom I
    shall hand it over. I demand a pledge from you that all men,
    women, and children within the fort shall be spared. Everything
    else I leave to your generosity.

My letter to the Om Shanga garrison, demanded by Abo Bey, ran thus:--

    _To the Commander of the Garrison at Om Shanga_:

    Circumstances have compelled me to write to the Mahdi regarding
    the surrender of Darfur, under certain conditions. Abo Bey, who
    takes this letter to you, will raise the siege; and you are
    hereby instructed to cease from all hostilities. I forbid you,
    in my capacity as commandant of the troops, to hand over to the
    enemy any war material, except in my presence.

    (Signed) _Governor-General of Darfur
    and Commandant of the Troops_,

    SLATIN.

Abo Bey objected to this last sentence; but when I explained to him that
the main point was that I submitted to the Mahdi only, he was satisfied.
Before Gretli left, I told him to point out to the Mahdi that the
surrender of Darfur before the impending battle was fought would
probably bring upon him a number of difficulties from which, at such a
time, he would prefer to be free, and I also warned him to tell Zogal.
As a last request, Abo Bey and Mohammed Abu Salama asked me to liberate
Zogal's relations from prison; but this I told them the Mahdi's deputy
alone could do. Our palaver having ended to the complete satisfaction of
all parties, the meeting broke up, and we separated.

Gretli now proceeded to the Emir's camp; at sunset we heard the beating
of the war-drums announcing his departure, and soon afterwards the
besiegers quitted the neighbourhood of Dara. I sent spies to see if
Madibbo was still staying behind; but they returned, and reported that
he had gone with the rest. It appeared that he had only decided to go at
the last moment.

Communication with Fasher was still interrupted; but sometime afterwards
I received a letter from Said Bey Guma to the effect that although the
tribes were in revolt, they had not attacked the town, but had prevented
all communications with the outside world.

The days which now passed were for me full of anxious expectancy. I knew
that by this time Hicks's force must have almost reached El Obeid, and
that the decisive battle, on the result of which hung all our hopes and
fears, was about to be fought. I used to frequent the market and chat
with the people on all the topics of the day. Every one was aware that a
large army was advancing on El Obeid, but none yet knew how it was
progressing.

At length, towards the end of November, to my unutterable grief, rumours
began to circulate that the army had been defeated, and although they
sounded suspiciously near the truth, still we could not absolutely
credit them; but a day or two later, definite news was received that the
expedition had been annihilated. Gloom settled down on us all. After so
many hardships and such constant trouble to at length fall into the
hands of the enemy, without the smallest chance of escape! Yet could it
be possible the news was grossly exaggerated? A flicker of hope still
remained, only to disappear finally when information was received that
Zogal had arrived at Om Shanga, and that the garrison had surrendered to
him as Mudir Umum el Gharb (Governor-General of the West), appointed by
the Mahdi.

On the 20th of December, 1883, Mohammed el Gretli arrived at the gate of
the fort dressed in a jibba, and was brought in to me. He related to me
in full detail the heart-rending news of the complete overthrow of the
expedition, of which he himself had been a witness; he also brought me a
letter from Zogal, calling on me to surrender; and to prove the disaster
which had overtaken the Egyptians, he sent me several of the principal
officers' commissions, a number of reports on the situation, and the
journals of Colonel Farquhar and Mr. O'Donovan. At the same time Gretli
informed me that Om Shanga had surrendered, and that Zogal was staying
in Bringel; with him were Abderrahman Wad Ahmed Sharfi and Said Abd es
Samad, both relatives of the Mahdi, besides the Emirs, Omar Wad Elias
Pasha, Gabr Wad et Tayeb, Hassan Wad en Nejumi, and several others,
accompanied by their rayas (flags).

To keep this news secret was quite out of the question; I therefore
summoned the Kadi and the leading merchants, and directed Gretli to
repeat to them what he had just told me. This over, I sent for the
officers in whom I trusted, and told them to talk over the matter
between themselves, and come to a decision without my interference, as I
should reserve to myself the right of accepting or rejecting their
proposals as I thought best.

That evening Farag Effendi and Ali Effendi Tobgi, the commandant of the
artillery, told me that the officers had decided to surrender to the
Mahdi but not to Zogal Bey. They stated their reasons for coming to this
decision very simply: every one, from the highest to the lowest, was now
absolutely convinced that we had not the smallest chance of relief; the
total force of regulars in Dara amounted to five hundred and ten men, of
whom a large number were quite useless; the spirit of the troops was
such as to render all idea of eventual success quite out of the
question; the ammunition was scarcely sufficient to last out one fight
if we were attacked or if we took the offensive. Both the officers
pointed out that I should never succeed in getting the men to fight any
longer; they had made up their minds to surrender, and they urged that
there was now no other course open. I told them I would carefully
consider the matter, and would give them an answer the following
morning.

That night I did not close my eyes. To think that after all the dangers
and difficulties through which we had passed, there was no other course
now open but to submit! And after that what was to be our fate?

I reviewed the situation from beginning to end during those sleepless
hours. For four years I had struggled alone to uphold the Government's
authority in the province which had been intrusted to my care,--first
against the local revolts, which I had suppressed; and latterly against
the great fanatical movement which had attacked the very roots of my
administration, and whose canker-worm had spread into the branches, till
at length the leaves withering one by one, the tree was all but dead.

In short, this strange fanaticism had thoroughly taken possession of my
officers and men; they had openly held out against it as long as it was
possible for me to dangle before their eyes the prospect of an immediate
reassertion of Government authority, through the anticipated success of
the Egyptian expedition under Hicks, and the consequent advantages which
would accrue to one and all of those who had loyally served the
Government. By every means in my power I had striven to prove to my
officers and men that the Government must eventually succeed; but at
length the crash had come, and all prospect of relief was absolutely and
entirely gone. I had struggled against intrigues from within and
without, with what success the reader can judge. With the small amount
of ammunition that remained, I might have made a vain struggle for a few
hours; but would my officers and men have obeyed my orders? They had no
wish and no heart to fight; they knew as well as I did the futility of
it; and why should I call on them to sacrifice themselves, and perhaps
their wives and children, to a cause to which they were no longer
attached?

Looking at the matter entirely from a general point of view, I had no
doubt in my own mind that capitulation was not only the right course,
but was practically inevitable. Having arrived at this conclusion, I had
now to turn to the personal aspect; and the solution of this problem was
to me beset with the greatest difficulties. As an officer, the idea of
surrender to such an enemy was repulsive in the extreme. I had no fear
of my own life; I had risked it sufficiently during the past four years
to effectually dispose of any notion that my surrender was occasioned by
any want of personal courage,--on that point I felt sure that, if
spared, I could without the smallest difficulty vindicate my action to
my military superiors; but the very word "surrender" was repellant to
me, and doubly so when I thought over the consequences which must
follow to me--a European and a Christian--alone amongst thousands and
thousands of fanatical Sudanese and others, the meanest among whom would
consider himself superior to me. It is true I had nominally adopted the
religion of the country; but this I had done merely as a means of
stifling the injurious opinions which I knew existed in the minds of
officers and men, that the cause of my defeat lay in my being a
Christian. My ruse had succeeded to a greater extent than I had
expected, but the proceeding had been a distasteful one to me. I had no
pretensions to holding very strict religious views on the expediency or
otherwise of the step I had taken; nevertheless, at heart I was, I
believe, as good a Christian as the majority of young men of my
acquaintance, and that being so, a continuance of the life of religious
deception I was then living was by no means a prospect which I
appreciated. Moreover, I was well aware that my surrender would place me
absolutely and entirely in the hands of this mock-religious reformer,
and that not only should I have to show myself to be a Moslem in the
ordinary sense of the term, but to carry out the rôle surrender would
entail on me, I must be prepared to pursue this religious deception to
its fullest extent,--I must become a devotee, and henceforth I must show
myself heart and soul a Mahdist!

Can any one imagine that this was a pleasing prospect? Nevertheless, I
confess that the religious considerations involved in the step I
contemplated--although they weighed with me to no small extent--did not
occupy my mind so fully as the considerations in regard to my duty.
Generally speaking, I felt it to be my duty to surrender, and make no
further sacrifice of life in a cause which could not now, by any
possibility, succeed. There was no particular reason, however, why I
should voluntarily submit to the indignities and practical slavery which
must follow on my personal surrender; to be accessory to my own death
occurred to me more than once, but my nature revolted against this
thought. I was young, my life during the past four years had been one
of anxious responsibility, but of stirring adventure as well, and I had
no particular desire to bring it to a close, even with the dark prospect
in front of me. God in His mercy had spared me almost miraculously in
this constant fighting, and perhaps He would still spare me to be of use
to the Government I had tried to serve most loyally.

These were the thoughts which were uppermost in my mind when the dark
hours of anxious meditation gave place to the first streaks of the dawn
of perhaps the most memorable day of my life. Yes, I concluded, there is
nothing for it now but submission; I must become, so to speak, the slave
of those whom I have governed, I must be obedient to those who in every
respect are my inferiors, and I must, above all, be patient: if by a
careful practice of these I should succeed in saving my life and
eventually recovering my liberty, no doubt the experience which I should
gain would be valuable to the Government in whose service I still was.
With this determination and resolution I rose, and dressed for the last
time for many a long year in the uniform, the honour of which I had done
my utmost to uphold, now to be discarded for the Mahdist garb, in which
I was to play an entirely new part in life; but beneath it would beat a
heart as truly loyal as ever to Government, and filled with a
determination that, come what might, if it were God's will I should be
eventually restored to liberty, the strange experiences which it would
now be my fate to undergo might be turned to useful account. It was now
to be a case of my wits against those of my new masters,--who would win?
I did not quail from the contest, though I should have had no little
excuse for doing so, could I have scanned the future, and seen before me
the long years of servitude, and the double life which I should be
compelled to lead, in order to carry through the resolution at which I
had now arrived.

The next morning, the two officers arrived; I showed them Zogal's
letter, calling on me to surrender peacefully, and to meet him on the
23rd of December at Hilla Shieria, where he would personally hand me the
Mahdi's letter; he further wrote that, in accordance with his present
instructions, my life and those of all the men, women, and children in
the fort should be spared, and we should be afforded all protection.

Whilst we were talking over the matter, the orderly officer reported
that Abder Rasul Agha, with all the Bazingers, as well as the chief
merchant with his family, had deserted the town during the night, with
the evident intention of joining the enemy.

This was the last straw. It was absolutely clear to me that further
resistance was impossible. I therefore sent for my clerk and dictated to
him a letter to Zogal, giving in my submission and that of the garrison,
and agreeing to meet him at Hilla Shieria on the 23rd of December; this
I handed to Gretli, with instructions to take it to Zogal, who was now
to be called Sayed Mohammed Ibn Khaled.

The following day, in the afternoon, I assembled all the officers, and
told them that, as further resistance was not possible, I had concurred
in their proposals; that I was leaving Dara that evening in order to
meet Zogal the next day at Hilla Shieria, and that I would take the Kadi
with me, but would leave the officers to look after the garrison during
my absence. In a few words, which seemed to stick in my throat, I
thanked them for their loyalty, their readiness to sacrifice their lives
in the service of the Government, and their adherence to me; then,
warmly shaking each of them by the hand, and taking a general leave of
the civil officials, I departed.

At midnight, accompanied by my kavasses, Kadi Wad el Beshir, Sultan
Abakr el Begawi, Ismail Wad Barnu, and Muslem Wad Kabbashi, who remained
faithful to the last, I quitted Dara. During my service in Darfur I had
had many disagreeable experiences, but this journey was quite the
hardest. Not a word passed. We were all fully occupied with our
miserable thoughts. At sunset we made a short halt, but the food put
before us by the servants remained untouched. Our appetites had gone,
so we rode on. As we approached Hilla Shieria, I sent an orderly ahead
to see if Zogal had arrived, and he soon returned, stating he had been
there since yesterday, and was waiting for me. In a few moments we
reached the spot where he was standing, and, jumping off my horse, I
advanced to salute him; he pressed me to his heart, and assured me of
his entire friendliness, begged me to be seated, and then handed me the
Mahdi's letter. It merely stated that he had appointed Sayed Mohammed
Khaled as Emir of the West, had granted me pardon, that he had
commissioned his nephew to treat me with the respect to which my rank
entitled me, and to act with leniency and forbearance to all those who
were formerly Government officials. After I had finished reading the
letter, Zogal informed me that it was entirely owing to his good offices
on my behalf that the Mahdi had pardoned me, and that he would, of
course, do his utmost to help me. I thanked him for his kind sympathy.
The Emirs were then introduced to me: Elias, Tayeb, and Hassan Nejumi I
had met before. After partaking of food, Zogal discussed his intended
journey to Dara; whilst we were talking, one of my officers, Mohammed
Agha Suleiman, arrived, and, without taking the smallest notice of me,
went up and greeted Zogal most effusively; I at once recognised him as
one of the three officers whom I had been told were "Black Zogal's" (as
he was called) secret agents. Mohammed Khaled, as I must call him in
future, now took me aside, and spoke to me about his relatives and his
family. I told him that I had left them all well, and that the former
were still in arrest. He at once said he quite concurred in the steps I
had taken, which of course were in the interests of self-preservation,
and best for us both. We then started off, and encamped the same evening
near Dara. Several of the inhabitants and officials came out to greet
the new governor, already dressed in their Dervish clothes.

During my absence, Mohammed Khaled had directed Abd es Samad, who was at
Bringel with the Dervish troops, to move down towards Dara and occupy
the buildings to the south of the town, which had formerly belonged to
the Vizir Ahmed Shatta. Joined on his march by most of the country
people, he had arrived at the appointed place, had established friendly
relations with the townspeople and garrison, and had distributed
quantities of the new clothing in presents.

That night I again passed almost without closing my eyes. It was
Christmas Eve. I thought of home and of the beautiful Church festival
which was being celebrated there, whilst I, alone and defeated, was
handing over my men and arms to the enemy. In those still hours--they
were the saddest in my life--I passed in review all that had happened.
More fortunate by far were those who had fallen on the field of honour!

The next morning, Zogal officially received all those who had come out
to pay homage to him, and then ordered them and the troops under Abd es
Samad to march past. This over, he dismissed his relatives who had come
out to greet him, regretting the discomfort they had suffered under
arrest, and he then proceeded to his house outside the fort, having,
meanwhile, ordered my men to hand over their arms by companies,--a duty
which was performed with very scant regard for our feelings. The fort
was now garrisoned by Dervish troops, and this completed his occupation
of the country. The inhabitants flocked to him to give their oaths of
allegiance to the Mahdi, and later in the day the troops were paraded by
his order, to go through the same ceremony.

Madibbo, who had joined Abd es Samad at Bringel, and had come to Dara
with him, followed me home. We shook hands, and I begged him to be
seated; he then began: "You seem to be annoyed with me, and accuse me of
having broken faith with you: but now listen to me. I was discharged
from my position of head Sheikh by Emiliani, and proceeded to the Bahr
el Arab, where the Mahdi's summons reached me. I am a good Moslem, and
therefore I followed him; I beheld the Mahdi's divine nature, and
listened to his doctrines; I was also present at the marvellous
destruction of Yusef Shellali. I therefore believed in him, and am still
a believer. You of course trusted in your strength, and did not wish to
submit without fighting. We both fought, each seeking his own advantage:
I fought against the Government, but not against you personally. God
knows, I have never forgotten that you were friendly minded to me,
therefore let anger depart from your heart and be a brother to me!"

"I am not at all angry at what you have done," I answered, "you are but
one among many: and should I have been annoyed with you, your words have
quite reconciled me." "I thank you," said Madibbo. "May God strengthen
you, and as He has protected you hitherto, may He continue to protect
you!" "In truth," I replied, "I put my trust in Him. Still it is hard to
have to bear all that has now happened; but I suppose it must be!" "Not
so," he answered; "I am only an Arab, but listen to me. Be obedient and
patient; practise this virtue, for it is written, 'Allah ma es saberin'
[God is with the patient]. However, I have come to ask you something,
and my request is this: If you are really a brother to me, then, in
token of our friendship, I wish you to accept my favourite horse. You
knew him before; he is the Sakr ed Dijaj [the Chicken-hawk]." Before I
could reply, he had got up and gone outside, and in a few minutes
returned, leading his horse, which was the finest and most handsome
animal owned by the tribe; he then handed me the leading-rope. "I do not
wish to insult you," I replied, "by refusing to accept your present, but
I do not require it; I shall not want to ride much now." "Who knows?"
said the Sheikh. "Illi umru tawil bishuf ketir [He who lives long sees
much]. You are still young, and may often ride yet,--if not on this
horse, then on another." "You may be right, Madibbo, but now do you
accept from me this token of friendship," said I, pointing to his
precious war-drums, which my servants took up and handed to him; these
drums, it will be remembered, I had taken in the night attack on
Kershu. On the drums I also laid a sword which I had taken down from
the wall. "To-day," said I, "these are mine, and I can offer them to
you; to-morrow they may be another's." "I thank you, and accept them
gladly," said the Sheikh. "Only a short time ago your men captured my
war-drums; but, as the Arabs say, 'Er rigal sharrada urrada' [A man runs
away and comes back again],[9] and I may truly say I have fought many
times in my life, and sometimes I have run away, then I have returned
and have succeeded." Madibbo now ordered his men to carry off his drums,
and departed in great delight. His conversation had affected me
considerably. So I was now to be "obedient and patient; for he who lives
long sees much."

Mohammed Khaled soon sent for me, and informed me that on his arrival at
Shieria he had despatched a letter by one of Wad Darho's relatives to
Said Bey Guma, summoning him to surrender, and had at the same time sent
a certain Abderrahman as his representative. He now called upon me to
write officially to him to hand over Fasher and summon every one to
submit. I replied that the clerks were no longer in my service, and that
the document could be made out, should he think it necessary, and I
would sign it. The orders to this effect were given, I signed them, and
Khaled, addressing the letter to the commander of the Fasher garrison,
despatched it at once.

The following morning the new Governor began his seizure of the state
moneys. The inhabitants of Dara, with the exception of all troops below
the rank of officer, and myself, being considered as Ghanima,[10] were
ordered out of their houses; they were only permitted to take with them
a few necessary cooking utensils and the clothes they wore, and were
ordered to collect in front of the police-station near the market,
whilst their dwellings were ransacked and the contents carried off to
the Beit el Mal which was opened in the Mudiria. As no money or
jewellery was found, all those suspected of having any were brought
before the Emirs, who ordered them to instantly produce it; and in
carrying out the search disgusting cruelties were perpetrated: they
flogged mercilessly, beat them with sticks or tied them by the legs head
downwards in wells until the rush of blood to the head rendered them
unconscious. Amongst those who exercised more cruelty than the rest was
my old Khartum friend Hassan Wad Saad en Nur, whom I reported, in his
presence, to Khaled. Hassan instantly turned to me, saying, "Do you
still think you are Governor-General of Darfur and can say what you
like?" I replied that he should be careful not to go too far, and
reminded him that it was I who secured his release from prison, and that
the horse he was then riding was mine. To this he answered impudently,
"It was God who released me, and it is God, and not you, who has given
me your horse to ride." Khaled, who heard these remarks, angrily ordered
him off, and said to me, "Take no notice of him, his father, Saad en
Nur, was the Sultan's slave, and slave-blood always shows itself."

As we were now alone, I complained to Khaled of the ill-treatment
visited on those who had shown complete submission, and I reminded him
of his pledge to protect all men, women, and children. "I am not going
to put any one to death," answered he, sharply, "but they have no right
to the money they are concealing; it is contrary to the arrangement, and
it must be taken from them by force." My experiences were beginning. I
went home, and here several of the poor people who had been turned out
of their houses came and begged me to give them something. I furnished
them with a little corn; but since our troubles began I had received no
pay, so had no money to offer them.

The male and female servants of the former officials were now
distributed amongst the Mahdists, but all the good-looking young girls
were put aside for the Mahdi himself.

Seven days after our surrender Khaled informed me that Said Bey Guma had
sent the principal officials to make their submission, and that he
himself was in the neighbourhood of the town awaiting further orders; he
therefore collected his forces and prepared to march out to meet him.
The delegates sent by Said Bey Guma were Omar Wad Darho and some of his
officers, Hanafi el Koreishi the grand Kadi, and Ali Bey Khabir. Khaled
received them with great satisfaction, and one of the clerks, coming
forward, presented the documents relating to the transfer of the
Government to Abderrahman; in these were included the lists of arms and
ammunition in store, the number of guns, etc. Khaled now took his guests
into the town and entertained them with the best of everything, pledging
himself to preserve, not only their lives and the lives of all the women
and children in Fasher, but also, when all the money and valuables were
collected, he promised that half would be returned to the owners. The
following day, however, it was rumoured that the Fasher garrison had
decided not to surrender after all, and in the evening news arrived that
Fiki Abderrahman had been warned to leave the city, which he had done,
and that all preparations were being made for defence. Khaled now
anxiously inquired of the messengers what had occurred to cause this
sudden change in Said Bey's intentions; but they replied it was not the
doing of Said Bey, but of some of the officers, who had been told by
refugees from Dara that their comrades had been badly treated, and they
had, therefore, decided to fight to the end.

Khaled now gave orders that all his people should prepare to advance at
once on Fasher, including the entire garrison, with their arms and
ammunition, with the exception of the officers, whom he ordered to
remain behind and to be carefully watched. He waited, however, two days
longer, in the hope that he might get different news; but as the first
account was further corroborated by some of Darho's men and Ali Khabir's
servant, who came in that evening from Fasher, he set out on 3rd January
to lay siege to the town, followed by large numbers of men marching by
various roads.

On 7th January he, his Emirs, and the Dara troops under Mohammed Agha
Suleiman, reached Wad Beraj, on the outskirts of the town, where they
pitched camp. The next day a letter was written which I was obliged to
sign, reminding Said Bey Guma and the officers of the agreement they had
made to surrender through Omar Wad Darho, Kadi Hanafi, and others.
My--or rather Khaled's--letter remained unanswered; for it was quite
understood in Fasher that, being now under Khaled, I had no other course
open than to obey his orders. The messenger who took the letter was told
to warn all those who complained of ill-treatment to come and state to
Khaled what they required; and this becoming known to the Fasher
garrison, several who had no desire to fight left the fort, and were
accepted in the Mahdist camp. Wad Darho's men, who lived outside the
fort, also came over to Khaled immediately, and orders were given to
begin the siege forthwith; the operations being intrusted to Darho.

I now asked Khaled to be allowed to talk to him privately, and I told
him plainly that this opposition on the part of the Fasher garrison was
entirely due to their fear of suffering in the same way as the Dara
people. This he quite admitted. I then told him I was very unwilling to
fight against those who had formerly been under my rule, and, as he was
well aware, the events of the last few days had considerably affected my
health; I therefore begged to be allowed to return to Dara. In reply to
my request he said that were it not that he liked me, he would most
certainly have punished me severely for the words I had just uttered;
nevertheless, he would allow me to return to Dara, on condition that I
pledged myself to abstain from any acts of hostility; at the same time
he showed me some letters which had been addressed to me, but which he
had opened. One of them was a reply to my report sent from the Beni
Helba country to Cairo regarding the desert road to Assiut. They had
been given to some Magharba Arabs to bring to me, and on their entry
into the country they had been arrested by the Saidia Arabs and kept as
prisoners, and on Khaled's arrival at El Fasher they had been sent on to
him. He allowed me to make notes of their contents. The letters were all
of old dates. One was from His Highness the Khedive Tewfik Pasha,
expressing his complete satisfaction with the services I had rendered,
urging me to continue to fulfil with diligence the duties of my
position, and telling me that he was despatching an army under Hicks
Pasha to subdue the rebels in Kordofan and restore peace. Another was
from H. E. Nubar Pasha, Prime Minister, who also expressed satisfaction
with my services, and repeated the information about the Hicks
expedition. The third was from Zubeir Pasha, who sent me his kind
regards, and asked me to make inquiries about the family of his son
Suleiman. As far as I knew, Suleiman had left only one child, who with
his mother I had handed over to the care of Omar Wad Darho with
instructions to take an early opportunity to send them to Zubeir's
relatives on the Nile. The mother, however, preferred to marry one of
Darho's relations, and she was charged with bringing up the child. The
feelings which I underwent on reading these letters can be better
imagined than described. How we had placed all our hopes on the success
of the Hicks expedition, and how rudely had those hopes been dashed to
the ground! However, I did my best to master my feelings, and handed the
letters back to Khaled, who was contentedly smiling at my agitation.
"Your Effendina [the Khedive] thought he would defeat the Mahdi," said
he, "but the 'expected one' has turned the tables on him; there are
still harder times in store for these deluded Turks and Egyptians." I
smothered the retort which hung on my lips, and said nothing. "Be
obedient and patient" was Madibbo's advice; but how difficult it was to
follow it!

I then got up and took leave of Khaled, who lost no opportunity of
showing me that he was my superior, and then proceeded to Dara without
delay. I was really ill, and on my arrival there kept to my house for
some days; but the weeping and wailing of the unfortunate people gave
me no rest: they had been robbed of all their means of livelihood, and
now eked out a miserable and wretched existence as best they could.

Meanwhile the Mahdists were besieging Fasher, and had taken up their
position on the hill to the east of the fort, from which they were
separated by the Khor Tendelti; they had taken possession of all the
wells, both near the hill, as well as those in the valley. Said Bey Guma
was the actual commandant, though the preliminary success of the
garrison was principally due to the energy of the two officers, Said
Agha el Fula and Ibrahim Agha et Tagalawi. The former had been wounded
with me at Shakka, and I had sent him to his family at Fasher to
recover; the latter was an exceptionally brave officer, and had
considerable influence with the troops. As there was no water in the
fort, the continuance of the siege depended on the possession of the
wells. Said Bey Guma disposed of eight hundred and fifty rifles, which
were more than were required for the size of the fort; but Khaled was
still better off. Nevertheless, the Fasher garrison succeeded, after a
sharp contest, in regaining the wells, and the Mahdists were forced to
retire to Wadi Baraj; here, however, they were reinforced by a portion
of the Kebkebia garrison. Adam Amer had surrendered, and had despatched
a large party of Bazingers, under Babakr Wad el Haj, with several
regulars to Khaled's support; and with this addition to their strength
another attack was made, which resulted in the garrison losing the
wells.

Several heroic sorties were made; but after a seven days' siege the
garrison was obliged to submit, on the 15th of January, and Khaled, the
conqueror, entered the ancient capital of his new kingdom. After the
arms had been handed over and the fort occupied, the seizure of property
began, as at Dara, and similar, if not worse, cruelties were perpetrated
on the luckless inhabitants. Said Bey himself was, comparatively
speaking, more fortunate than other commanders; the greater part of his
property was confiscated, it is true, but he was not maltreated nor
insulted, and for the time being he and his family were banished to
Kobbé, where he was given a house, and was thus saved the misery of
seeing his comrades and inferiors being tormented.

Amongst the latter was a certain Major Hamada Effendi, who, in spite of
every effort to make him confess, persisted in declaring that he had no
money. One of his female slaves, however, told his persecutors that he
had a quantity of gold and silver, but she did not know where he had
concealed it. Consequently he was brought before Khaled, who called him
an unbelieving dog. Hamada Effendi, losing control of himself, retorted
that he was a wretched Dongolawi; and Khaled, furious at this insult,
ordered the unfortunate man to be flogged until he confessed the
hiding-place of his treasure. For three days in succession he received a
thousand lashes a day, but it was all in vain; had he been a block of
wood or stone, he could not have stood this awful flogging more
doggedly. To the repeated questions of his tormentors as to where his
money was, he merely answered, "Yes, I have concealed money, but it will
remain buried in the ground with me." Khaled now ordered the flogging to
be stopped, and the poor mangled man was handed over to the Mima Arabs,
who were told to guard him; and even they were struck with the
resolution of this officer, from whom no amount of torture could wring a
confession. Ibrahim Tegalawi, who had been called a "slave" by one of
the Emirs, deliberately shot dead his own wife, his brother, and then
himself; Said Agha Fula also preferred to commit suicide than undergo
torture. After these occurrences, Khaled gave orders to stop the
flogging, and banished the Egyptian officers to various places in the
neighbourhood.

Shortly after the fall of Fasher I received a summons from Khaled to
join him, and I arrived there early in February; he gave me Said Bey
Guma's house to live in, and told me that I might send to Dara for my
horses and servants, but as regards the house furniture, that must be
passed into the Beit el Mal as an "act of renunciation." I carried out
these instructions, and handed over all the property in my house in
Fasher to the treasurer of the Beit el Mal, Gaber Wad et Taib, only
retaining such things as were absolutely necessary for daily life. I had
heard on my arrival here of Hamada's heroism, and sought out the poor
old Major, whom I found in a truly terrible state. The gaping wounds
from his shoulders to his knees were mortifying rapidly, and his
tormentors used to pour over them daily a strong solution of salt and
water well seasoned with Sudan pepper, thus hoping to wring a confession
from him during the awful pain which ensued. But it was useless; he
absolutely refused to utter a word. In desperation I went to Khaled,
told him of the poor man's horrible condition, and begged him to allow
me to take him to my own house and treat him there. "He is dishonest,"
said Khaled; "he has concealed money and has publicly insulted me: for
this he must die a miserable death." "For the sake of our old
friendship," said I, "I beg and pray you will forgive him and hand him
over to me." "Well," said he at last, "I will if you will prostrate
yourself before me." In the Sudan this is considered a terrible
humiliation. The blood rushed to my face: to save my own life I would
never do such a thing; but if by this self-sacrifice I could rescue the
poor wretched man from his awful sufferings, I ought surely to do so.
For a moment I hesitated; then, with a fearful effort of self-control, I
knelt down, and laid my hands on his bare feet. He drew them back,
raised me up, and, apparently ashamed of having asked such a sacrifice
of me, said, "It is only for your sake that I shall liberate Hamada; but
you must promise that, should you find out where his treasure is, you
will let me know." I promised to do so, and he then sent a man with me
to Hamada. Calling up my servants I had him carried on an angareb, as
tenderly as I could, to my house, and washed his wounds, spreading over
them fresh butter to deaden the pain. It was quite impossible he could
live much longer. I gave him a little soup, and in a low voice he called
down all the curses of Heaven on his enemies. He lay in my house four
days, and then, calling me to his bedside, he motioned to the servants
to leave us; he now whispered, in words which were scarcely audible, "My
hour has come. May the Lord reward you for all your kindness to me! I
cannot do so, but I will show you that I am grateful. I have buried my
money--" "Stop!" said I. "Are you going to tell me where you have hidden
your treasure?" "Yes," he murmured; "it may be of some use to you."
"No," I answered, "I will not and cannot use it; I secured your release
from your tormentors on the one condition that, should I learn where
your money was hidden, I should tell Khaled your enemy. You have
suffered greatly, and are paying with your life for your determination
not to let your treasure fall into your enemy's hands; let it lie
unknown in the ground, it will keep silence!" Whilst I was talking,
Hamada held my hand; with a supreme effort he murmured, "I thank you;
may you became fortunate without my money! Allah Karim [God is
merciful!];" then, stretching out his limbs, and raising his forefinger,
he slowly muttered, "La ilaha illallah, Mohammed Rasul Allah," closed
his eyes, and died.

As I gazed at his poor mangled corpse my eyes filled with tears. How
much was I still to suffer before it came to my turn to enter into
everlasting rest? Calling my servants, I bade them bring in two good men
to wash the body, and wrap it in some linen I had procured; meanwhile, I
went to Khaled to inform him of his death. "Did he not tell you where
his money was buried?" said he, sharply. "No," said I, "the man was too
stubborn to betray his secret." "Then may God curse him!" said the Emir,
turning to me. "However, as he died in your house, you may bury him; he
really deserves to be thrown out like a dog on the dunghill." Quitting
him, I went home and buried poor Hamada, with the usual form of prayer,
just in front of my house.

Khaled was a very cunning man, excessively strict with the former
Government officials, and unnecessarily lenient in his transactions with
the local population. He filled all important positions by his own
relatives, and although he strove by every means in his power to squeeze
all he could out of the country, he was specially careful to avoid the
risk of incurring popular discontent. He appropriated to himself the
greater part of the revenues, and every now and then he sent as presents
to the Mahdi and his Khalifas a batch of pretty girls, some good horses,
or some exceptionally fine camels, so as to retain his good reputation
in the household of his lord and master. He kept up great state, and
surrounded himself with an enormous household. He married Mariam Isa
Basi, the sister of the Sultan of Darfur, although she was over fifty
years old. This good lady had hundreds of male and female slaves, and
kept up her state in true Sudanese fashion. It did not seem to occur to
Khaled that any self-abnegation, as required by the Mahdi creed, should
be demanded of him. Every evening he caused a hundred dishes, plates,
and twisted mats, full of every variety of food, to be distributed
amongst his followers, who, seated at their ease under the palm-trees,
would sing the praises of the Mahdi, coupling every now and then his
name with that of their benefactor and Emir, Khaled.

At about this time a long letter, sent from Cairo to me, through the
Mudir of Dongola, by the hands of a trusty Arab, arrived. In it I was
ordered to concentrate the troops at Fasher, hand over the province to
Abd es Shakur bin Abderrahman Shattut, a descendant of the Darfur
Sultans, and move with all troops and war _matériel_ to Dongola. The
king's son in question was, however, still in Dongola, unable to find
means to come to Darfur; and I greatly doubt if his arrival would have
made the smallest difference in the situation. Concentration at Fasher
would have been rendered impossible by the defection of the officers and
men; and had I been able to collect sufficient troops ready to obey my
orders, and had I been able to march out with them and the war
_matériel_ unmolested, I could equally well have been able to stay in
the country and maintain my position; in which case the Egyptian
Government would have had in me a vassal of equivalent, if not greater,
fidelity than the powerless Abd es Shakur. Khaled showed me these
letters, and also gave me permission to write a few lines to my family
at home, which he allowed the Arab who brought the letters to take back;
but I do not think my letter ever reached its destination.

During all this time I remained quietly at my house, awaiting the
instructions of the Mahdi as to my movements. About the middle of May,
Khaled informed me that, owing to scarcity of water, the Mahdi had
quitted El Obeid and marched to Rahad, that he wished to know me
personally, and that, therefore, I should make preparations to start at
once.

News now reached us of the fall of Bahr el Ghazal, under Lupton Bey, and
of the despatch of the Emir Karamalla, as Mahdist Governor of the
Province. This Karamalla had formerly lived with his brother Kerkesawi,
who was commander of Lupton's Bazingers, and on the outbreak of the
revolt had proceeded with his brother's permission to El Obeid, where he
had been well received by the Mahdi. Appointed Emir, he was sent back,
and was immediately joined by all the Bazingers and most of Lupton's
officials, including finally his sub-governor, Arbab ez Zubeir, who had
hitherto served the Government most loyally. Thus deserted by all his
people, Lupton had no other course open than to capitulate, which he
did, without fighting, on 28th April 1884. Had it not been for the
defection of his own men and officials, Lupton, by a judicious
management of the Negro tribes, could have held his province against all
comers for years; but deserted by all, and by them sold over to the
Mahdists, he could not do otherwise than surrender.

Khaled wished Said Bey Guma to accompany me as well; he was still living
at Kobbé, and, in spite of his former intrigues against me, I agreed to
the proposal; also a certain Greek merchant named Dimitri Zigada asked
to accompany me, and Khaled gave him permission to do so. This man had
been long resident in Darfur, and had been a meat contractor for the
troops at Fasher and Kebkebia. Previous to my capitulation, he had
presented to me claims for £8,000 for meat supplied, which I had
granted, and my signature to that effect he sewed into his clothes.

Procuring the necessary camels, and confining ourselves to as few
servants as possible, as at that time of the year water was very scarce
along the road, we prepared for the journey.

Hearing that I could sell horses at a good price in Kordofan, I took
four of mine with me, hoping in this way to obtain sufficient money to
cover our daily expenses. At Khaled's express wish, I gave him the bay
pony which Gordon had presented to me. Said Bey had now arrived from
Kobbé, bringing with him only one wife; the remainder and his seven
children he had, to his great regret, been obliged to leave behind him.
About the middle of June, Zigada and I quitted Fasher, heartily glad to
leave the place where we had suffered so many hardships and bitter
experiences. Khaled supplied us with an escort of ten men under Fiki
Shakir, of the Berti tribe, and no doubt the latter was instructed to
keep a careful watch over us. In bidding him good-bye, I thanked Khaled
for his friendship, and begged him to be kind to the few remaining male
and female servants I had left behind me.

Our route lay through Toweisha _via_ Woda and Fafa; on the way we were
constantly exposed to the inquisitive importunity of the country people,
and had to submit to many an insulting remark regarding our present
situation, which they invariably said was much better than we deserved.
To save our horses, we marched slow, and on the fifth day reached
Toweisha, where, being our guide's native place, we stayed a few days;
during this time he treated us as his guests, and did all he could to
make us comfortable. On leaving, I gave his little daughters a few
ivory bracelets, which are much prized in Darfur, and which I had
brought with me in lieu of money; I also obtained a few dollars, which I
gave to our host in order to secure his friendship.

He told me confidentially that Khaled had particularly instructed him to
note carefully all we said to each other on the journey, and, should we
make disparaging remarks about the Mahdi and his doings, he was at once
to let Khalifa Abdullahi know; he asked me to tell my companions this,
so that they might take heed not to allow any ill-advised expressions to
drop which might be made fatal use of by those evilly-disposed to us. I
thanked him heartily for this confidence, and we took special pains to
say nothing of a compromising nature during the rest of the journey.

Passing through Dar Homr, we were subjected to the insulting curiosity
of the Messeria Arabs, and, continuing our journey towards El Obeid, we
procured water from the Baobab reservoir-trees, for which we had to pay
heavily, and at length reached that city. The Mahdi had left here as
Governor a most dissolute old relative of his named Sayed Mahmud; we
found him sitting on the ground in hot dispute with some merchants. I
told him who I was, and he had already been warned of our approach; but
he took not the slightest notice of us, keeping us standing for some
minutes. Eventually, he gave us a discourteous greeting, and sent one of
his men to take us to a house which was to serve as our lodging. An hour
later, they brought us a sheep, and a sack of corn as food for the
camels and horses, and directed us to attend public prayers. Dimitri
Zigada pretended to be ill; but Said Bey and I went and stayed in the
open court of the mosque from noon till sunset; during the whole of this
time, Sayed Mahmud and his staff instructed the congregation on the
beauties and high importance of the Mahdi's doctrine, and, turning to
us, urged us to serve him honestly and faithfully, or we should suffer
unheard-of punishments in this world, and hell-fire in the world to
come. At last, pleading fatigue after our long journey, we were allowed
to withdraw; and Mahmud directed us to proceed the next day to Rahad,
where the Mahdi was now encamped.




CHAPTER X.

THE SIEGE AND FALL OF KHARTUM.

    Gordon returns to the Sudan--The Siege of Khartum--I join the
    Mahdi at Rahad--Interviews and first Impressions of the
    Mahdi--The Oath of Allegiance--Description of the Khalifa--The
    Arrival of Hussein Pasha--Criticisms on Gordon's Mission--The
    Abandonment of the Sudan proclaimed--Incidents in Various Parts
    of the Sudan--The Arrival of Olivier Pain--His Mission, Illness,
    and Death--Arrival outside Khartum--I write to Gordon--I am
    arrested and thrown into Chains--Incidents during my
    Imprisonment--The Surrender of Omdurman--The Delay of the
    British Expedition--Khartum is attacked and taken--Gordon's Head
    is brought to me--Account of the last Days of Khartum--Massacres
    and Atrocities after the Fall--The Retreat of the British
    Expedition--The Rigours of my Imprisonment increased--My Comrade
    in Captivity, Frank Lupton--We are both released--I enter the
    Khalifa's Body-guard--Illness and Death of the Mahdi--Khalifa
    Abdullahi succeeds him--The Rules and Ordinances of the Mahdi.


After the destruction of Hicks Pasha's expedition, the Mahdi well knew
that the whole Sudan was at his feet; to take possession of it was
merely a question of time. His first step was the despatch of his cousin
Khaled to Darfur, where he knew no resistance was possible. Through the
influence of Karamalla, he was able to acquire possession of the Bahr el
Ghazal, the employés having merely transferred their allegiance from the
Khedive to the Mahdi. Already Mek Adam of Tagalla had submitted, and had
come to El Obeid with his family. Mahdism had seized a firm hold of the
Eastern Sudan, and found a ready home amongst the brave Arabs of those
regions; Egyptian troops had been annihilated at Sinkat and Tamanib;
General Baker's disaster at Teb had given the tribes great confidence;
and Mustafa Hadal was besieging Kassala. In the Gezira, between the
Blue and White Niles, the Mahdi's brother-in-law, Wad el Basir of the
Halawin tribe, had scored successes against the Government; and such was
briefly the condition of the country when Gordon reached Berber, on 11th
February 1884.

The Egyptian Government, in accord with the British Government, thought
that by the despatch of Gordon, who had special knowledge of the Sudan,
the agitation would be stopped; but neither these Governments, nor
Gordon himself, seemed to realise how serious the situation really was.
Did they imagine for a moment that Gordon, who had had occasion to show
considerable personal bravery, who had gained a name for charity and
benevolence amongst the lower classes of the Darfur population, and had
suppressed a number of revolts in the Equatorial Negro lands, was
capable of checking the blazing flames of fanaticism? The Jaalin between
Berber and Khartum, and throughout the Gezira, had become restive and
dissatisfied; and was the personal influence of Gordon going to pacify
them? On the contrary, these same tribes had every reason to remember
with little satisfaction the name of the Governor-General who had issued
the ejection edict against the Gellabas of the southern districts,
during the Suleiman Zubeir war against the Arabs. In the events which
followed on this drastic measure, and which I have described elsewhere,
many of these people had lost fathers, brothers, and sons, and had been
reduced to beggary; were they likely to forgive Gordon this?

On the 18th February, he reached Khartum, and received a warm welcome
from the officials and inhabitants. Those who were in immediate contact
with him, and anticipating for themselves much personal benefit, were
convinced that the Government would never leave a man like Gordon in the
lurch. Almost his first step was to issue a proclamation appointing the
Mahdi Sultan of Kordofan, permitting the slave-trade, and proposing to
enter into relations with him; in his letter he also asked for the
release of the prisoners, and sent the Mahdi some very fine clothes.
Gordon's letter would have been all very well if he had had a force at
his back with which to march into Kordofan; but the Mahdi had been told
that he had arrived at Khartum with merely a small body-guard. Naturally
he thought it an extraordinary proceeding for Gordon to give him what he
had already taken by force of arms, and which it was most improbable any
troops at Gordon's disposal could have wrenched from him; and it was in
this frame of mind that the Mahdi couched his reply advising Gordon to
surrender and save his life.

Meanwhile, the immense crowds which had collected round El Obeid began
to exhaust the water supply; and, to reduce the pressure, the Mahdi
despatched Abu Anga, with a large force, against Jebel Daïr, where the
Nuba tribes were offering a stubborn resistance to his rule.

In all these matters, Khalifa Abdullahi was the Mahdi's principal
adviser, and, consequently, he was detested by the immediate relatives
of the Prophet, who did all in their power to frustrate his designs, and
intrigue against him. He was, however, well aware that the Mahdi could
not get on without him; he therefore retaliated by complaining against
these intrigues, and asked the Mahdi to take an occasion to openly
acknowledge his services. This led to the issue of a proclamation which,
to this day, is referred to whenever any exceptionally severe measure or
important change is contemplated by his successor. It runs as follows:--

    A PROCLAMATION
    FROM MOHAMMED EL MAHDI TO ALL HIS FOLLOWERS.

    In the name of God, etc., Know ye, O my followers, that the
    representative of the righteous [Abu Bakr], and the Emir of the
    Mahdi army, referred to in the Prophet's vision, is Es Sayed
    Abdullahi Ibn es Sayed Hamadalla. He is of me, and I am of him.
    Behave with all reverence to him, as you do to me; submit to him
    as you submit to me, and believe in him as you believe in me;
    rely on all he says, and never question any of his proceedings.
    All that he does is by order of the Prophet, or by my
    permission. He is my agent in carrying out the will of the
    Prophet. If God and His Prophet desire to do anything, we must
    submit to their will; and if any one shows the slightest
    disinclination, he is not a believer, and has no faith in God.
    The Khalifa Abdullahi is the representative of the righteous.
    You are well aware of the love of God and His apostle for the
    righteous; therefore, you can readily understand the honourable
    position which should be held by His representative. He is
    guarded by the "Khudr," and is strengthened by God and His
    Prophet. If any one of you speak or think ill of him, you will
    suffer destruction, and will lose this world and the world to
    come.

    Know, therefore, that all his sayings and actions must never be
    questioned; for he has been given wisdom and a right judgment in
    all things. If he sentence any of you to death, or confiscate
    your property, it is for your good; therefore do not disobey
    him. The Prophet says that, in next degree to the Prophet, Abu
    Bakr was the greatest living man under the sun, and also the
    most righteous. The Khalifa Abdullahi is his representative;
    and, by order of the Prophet, he is my Khalifa. All those who
    believe in God and in me must also believe in him; and, should
    any one notice anything apparently wrong in him, they should
    attribute it to a mystery which they cannot understand, and
    that, therefore, it must be right. Let those who are present
    tell those who are absent, so that all may submit to him, and
    attribute to him no wrong. Beware of doing any harm to the
    friends of God; for God and His Prophet curse those that behave
    or think badly of His friends.

    The Khalifa Abdullahi is the commander of the faithful, and is
    my Khalifa and agent in all religious matters. Therefore, I
    leave off as I have begun,--"Believe in him; obey his orders;
    never doubt what he says, but give all your confidence to him,
    and trust him in all your affairs." And may God be with you all.
    Amen.

As the water was daily becoming more scarce, the Mahdi resolved to move
his entire camp to Rahad, about one day's journey from El Obeid; and,
about the middle of April, the transfer of this immense mass of men,
women, and children to the new position was completed. He had left his
old relative, Sayed Mahmud, at El Obeid with very strict orders that any
persons found remaining in the town, without his permission, were to be
sent to Rahad by force; and he sent further reinforcements to Jebel
Daïr, which was only a day's march distant, and where the plucky Nubas
were defending themselves most gallantly.

The camp at Rahad soon became a perfect sea of straw huts, or tokuls,
stretching as far as the eye could reach; and, all day long, the Mahdi
occupied himself in his religious duties, preaching and praying
incessantly. Mohammed Abu Girga, he nominated Emir of the Gezira, and
despatched him, with a considerable following, to the Nile, with
instructions to head the revolt in these districts, and besiege Khartum.

Such was the state of affairs when, towards sunset, Said Bey Guma,
Dimitri Zigada, and I approached Rahad. We stopped for the night at some
huts on the outskirts; and it was not long before a considerable number
of people became aware of our arrival, and we received several visits
from those who were anxious to know the situation in Darfur when we had
left. At sunrise, having donned our new jibbas, we took leave of our
hosts, and proceeded towards the camp where we were expected in two
hours time; my servants, who knew something of tailoring, had made me a
jibba with broad black patches sewn on with such evenness and regularity
that, at a short distance, I must have looked exactly like a lady in a
fancy bathing costume, whilst Said Bey and Zigada wore party-coloured
patches which gave them the appearance of harlequins. I now sent on one
of my servants to apprise the much-feared Khalifa of our approach; but,
as he delayed returning, we rode on along the broad road leading to the
market-place. As we approached, we heard the dismal sound of the ombeÿa,
which was the signal that the Khalifa had gone out on his horse. By
chance, I came across a Darfuri who, when I asked him what the ombeÿa
was being sounded for, replied, "Very probably Khalifa Abdullahi is
giving orders for some one's head to be cut off, and this is a summons
to the people to witness the execution." Had I been superstitious, I
should certainly have taken this as a bad omen,--an execution the moment
I entered the camp! However, we rode on, and soon came in sight of a
large open place where we saw my servant and another man hastening
towards us. "Stay where you are," cried he, "and come no further; the
Khalifa, with his escort, has gone out to meet you; he thought you were
still outside the camp." We halted while the other man returned to let
the Khalifa know we had arrived. A few minutes later, we saw hundreds of
horsemen surrounded by numbers of armed footmen approaching us, and
marching to the sound of the ombeÿa. At the farther end of the open
space was the Khalifa himself; he had halted, and several horsemen,
ranging up to his right and left, stood awaiting his instructions. He
now ordered them to begin their horse exercise, which consisted of
batches of four men abreast, with poised lances, galloping at full speed
towards some point, then suddenly pulling up, turning round and
galloping back again; this useless sort of drill continued until men and
horses became utterly exhausted. Sometimes I was the objective of their
charge, and, as they galloped up, they shook their spears close to my
face, shouting, "Fi shan Allah wa Rasulahu" (For God and His Prophet),
and then galloped back again. After repeating this operation for upwards
of half an hour, one of the Khalifa's servants at length approached me
on foot, and told me that the Khalifa wished me also to gallop towards
him. I did so, shook my lance in his face, shouted, "Fi shan Allah wa
Rasulahu!" and then returned to my place. He now sent word to me to ride
behind him, and in a few minutes we reached his quarters. He was
assisted to dismount by a special attendant, the remainder keeping at a
respectful distance; and he disappeared behind the fence. In a few
moments, he sent out a message to us to come in; and we were conducted
to a spot fenced off from the rest of the enclosure, which is
designated the rekuba; it was merely a small, square apartment with
straw walls and a thatch roof. In it were several angarebs and
palm-mats; we were told to seat ourselves on these, and were served with
a mixture of honey and water in a pumpkin gourd, and some dates. Having
partaken of this, we patiently awaited the appearance of our hospitable
host and master. He soon came in, and we at once rose; seizing my hand,
he pressed me to his heart, saying, "God be praised, we are at last
united! How do you feel after your long and tiring journey?" "Yes,
indeed," I replied, "God be praised for having granted me to live to see
this day! When I beheld your countenance, my fatigue at once left me!" I
well knew that, to win his favour, I must flatter him as much as
possible; he now gave his hand to Said Bey and Dimitri to kiss, and
asked how they were. I scrutinised him very carefully; he had a
light-brown complexion, a sympathetic Arab face, on which the marks of
small-pox were still traceable, an aquiline nose, a well-shaped mouth,
slight moustache, and a fringe of hair on his cheeks, but rather thicker
on his chin; he was about middle height, neither thin nor stout, was
wearing a jibba covered with small square patches of different colours,
and a Mecca takia, or skull cap, round which was bound a cotton turban;
he generally spoke with a smile, and showed a row of glistening white
teeth. Having greeted us, he told us to be seated; and we at once sat on
the palm-mats on the ground, whilst he sat cross-legged on an angareb.
Once more he inquired after our health, and expressed his great delight
that we had at last reached the Mahdi. On a sign to one of his servants,
a dish of asida, and another of meat, were laid before us, and, sitting
beside us, he told us to help ourselves; he himself ate heartily,
seeming to thoroughly enjoy his food, and, during the meal, he asked
several questions. "Why," said he, smiling, "did you not wait for me
outside the camp, instead of entering without permission? You know you
are not supposed to enter a friend's house without his permission."
"Pardon," said I, "my servant kept us waiting so long, and none of us
thought you would take the trouble to come out and meet us; then, as we
reached the entrance of the camp, we heard the beating of war-drums and
the sound of your ombeÿa, and, when we inquired what that meant, we were
told that you had ridden out to witness the execution of a criminal; we
therefore intended following the sound of your ombeÿa, when your order
reached us." "Am I then known as a tyrant amongst the people," said he,
"that the sound of my ombeÿa should always mean the death of some one?"
"No, indeed, sir," said I, "you are generally known to be strict, but
just." "Yes, I am strict," he replied; "but this must be so, and you
will understand the reasons as you prolong your stay with me."

One of the Khalifa's slaves now entered, and said that several people
were waiting outside, and sought his permission to greet me. The Khalifa
at once asked if I was not too fatigued after my journey; and when I
said no, he allowed them to come in. The first to enter was Ahmed Wad
Ali (the Kadi el Islam), who was formerly one of my Government
officials, but had deserted from Shakka; then followed Abderrahman ben
Naga, who had come with the Hicks expedition, in the course of which he
had lost an eye, and had been wounded in several places, but had been
rescued by some of his slaves who were with the Mahdists; Ahmed Wad
Suleiman, the Treasurer of the Beit el Mal, Sayed Abdel Kader, the
Mahdi's uncle, Sayed Abdel Karim, and several others followed. All of
them kissed the Khalifa's hand with deep reverence, and, after asking
his permission, greeted me. The usual complimentary speeches passed
between us; and, after reciprocal congratulations that we had lived to
see the glorious time of the Mahdi, they withdrew; Abderrahman alone
gave me a wink with his one eye as he said good-bye, from which I knew
he had something to say to me, so I walked forward a few steps with him,
and, in a low quick tone, he muttered: "Be very careful; hold your
tongue, and trust no one." I took his warning to heart.

The Khalifa then departed, recommending us to take some rest, as he
would present us to the Mahdi at noon-day prayers. We now inquired about
our servants, and were told that they had been taken in and given food.
Once alone, and convinced that there were no eavesdroppers near, we
spoke of our excellent reception, and I warned the others to be most
careful about what they said. Dimitri Zigada was now getting quite
pleased with himself, and began searching about in his pockets for a
piece of tobacco to chew; he produced some from under his jibba, and at
once put it in his mouth. I begged him to be careful, as such practices
were entirely forbidden by the Mahdi; he replied by saying he intended
asking the Khalifa to allow him to go and live with his compatriots, of
whom there were a considerable number in camp. "I am only a common
merchant," said he, "and have lost all my money; the Khalifa won't take
any further notice of me; but you will have to keep a sharp lookout
yourselves, for you are former Government officials and military men, so
he will watch you very carefully."

About two o'clock in the afternoon a message reached us from the
Khalifa, to perform our ablutions, and prepare to go to the Mesjed
(place of worship); a few minutes later he arrived himself, and told us
to follow him. He was on foot, as the mosque, which was close to the
Mahdi's hut, was only about three hundred yards off. On arrival, we
found the place crowded with devotees, ranged in closely packed lines;
and, when the Khalifa entered, they made way for him with great respect.
A sheepskin was spread on the ground for us, and he directed us to take
our places beside him. The Mahdi's quarters, consisting of several large
straw huts fenced off by a thorn zariba, were situated at the southwest
end of the mosque. A gigantic tree afforded shade to a number of the
worshippers, but those beyond had no protection from the burning sun. A
few paces from the front line, and to the right, lay a small hut which
was reserved for those with whom the Mahdi wished to converse in
private. The Khalifa now rose and entered this hut, probably to inform
his master of our arrival; for, in a few moments, he returned, again
seated himself beside me, and almost immediately the Mahdi himself came
out. The Khalifa at once arose, and with him Said Bey, Dimitri, and I,
who were just behind him, whilst the others quietly remained in their
places. The Mahdi being the Imam, or leader of prayers, his sheepskin
was spread out in front; and he then stepped towards us. I had advanced
slightly, and he greeted me with "Salam aleikum," which we at once
returned by "Aleikum es salam." He then presented his hand for me to
kiss, which I did several times, and Said Bey and Dimitri followed my
example. Motioning us to be seated, he welcomed us, and, turning to me,
said, "Are you satisfied?" "Indeed I am," I replied, readily; "on coming
so near to you I am most happy." "God bless you and your brethren!"
(meaning Said Bey and Dimitri) said he; "when news reached us of your
battles against my followers, I used to pray to God for your conversion.
God and His Prophet have heard my prayers, and as you have faithfully
served your former master for perishable money, so now you should serve
me; for he who serves me, and hears my words, serves God and His
religion, and shall have happiness in this world and joy in the world to
come." We of course all made professions of fidelity; and as I had been
previously warned to ask him to give me the "beia," or oath of
allegiance, I now besought this honour. Calling us up beside him, he
bade us kneel on the edge of his sheepskin, and, placing our hands in
his, he told us to repeat after him as follows:--

"Bism Illahi er Rahman er Rahim, bayana Allaha wa Rasulahu wa bayanaka
ala tauhid Illahi, wala nushrek billahi shayan, wala nasrek, wala nazni,
wala nati bi buhtan, wala nasak fil maruf, bayanaka ala tark ed dunya
wal akhera, wala naferru min el jehad" (In the name of God the most
compassionate and merciful, in the name of the unity of God, we pay God,
His Prophet, and you our allegiance; (we swear) that we shall not
associate anything else with God, that we shall not steal, nor commit
adultery, nor lead any one into deception, nor disobey you in your
goodness; we swear to renounce this world and (look only) to the world
to come, and that we shall not flee from the religious war).

This over, we kissed his hand, and were now enrolled amongst his most
devoted adherents; but at the same time we were liable to suffer their
punishments. The muazzen (prayer caller) now gave the first signal to
begin prayers, and we repeated the usual formulæ after the Mahdi. When
they were over, all those present raised their hands to Heaven, and
besought God to grant victory to the faithful. The Mahdi now began his
sermon. An immense circle was formed around him, and he spoke of the
vanity and nothingness of this life, urging all to renounce the world,
and to think only of their religious duties, and of the Jehad; he
painted, in most glowing terms, the delights of Paradise, and the
heavenly joys which awaited those who paid heed to his doctrine. Every
now and then he was interrupted by the shouts of some fanatic in an
ecstasy; and, indeed, I am convinced every one present, except
ourselves, really believed in him. The Khalifa, having something to do,
had left the mosque, but had ordered his mulazemia (body-guard), who
remained, to tell us to stay with the Mahdi till sunset. I had now a
good opportunity of making a careful survey of Mohammed Ahmed; he was a
tall, broad-shouldered man of light-brown colour, and powerfully built;
he had a large head and sparkling black eyes; he wore a black beard, and
had the usual three slits on each cheek; his nose and mouth were well
shaped, and he had the habit of always smiling, showing his white teeth
and exposing the V-shaped aperture between the two front ones which is
always considered a sign of good luck in the Sudan, and is known as
"falja." This was one of the principal causes which made the Mahdi so
popular with the fair sex, by whom he was dubbed "Abu falja" (the man
with the separated teeth). He wore a short quilted jibba, beautifully
washed, and perfumed with sandal-wood, musk, and attar of roses; this
perfume was celebrated amongst his disciples as Rihet el Mahdi (the
odour of the Mahdi), and was supposed to equal, if not surpass, that of
the dwellers in Paradise.

We remained exactly on the same spot, with our legs tucked away behind,
until the time for evening prayers came. Meanwhile the Mahdi had
frequently gone to and fro between his house and the mosque; and,
prayers over, I begged leave to depart, as the Khalifa had told me to
return to him at that hour. He gave me permission, and took the
opportunity of saying that I must adhere closely to the Khalifa, and
devote myself entirely to his service. Of course I promised to obey him
to the letter, and Dimitri, Said Bey, and I, covering the Mahdi's hand
with kisses, quitted the mosque. My legs were so cramped by the posture
in which I had been sitting for hours together that I could scarcely
walk; but, in spite of the pain, I was obliged to keep as cheerful a
face as possible in the Mahdi's presence. Said Bey was more used to it,
and did not seem to suffer so much; but poor Dimitri limped behind,
muttering Greek in an undertone, which I have no doubt conveyed the most
frightful imprecations,--at any rate I can vouch that they were not
songs of praise of the Mahdi. A mulazem returned with us to the
Khalifa's house, where he was waiting for us to sit down to supper with
him.

He told us that since he had seen us in the morning, Sheikh Hamed en Nil
of the Arakin Arabs, and one of the principal Sheikhs of the Gezira, had
arrived, and that his relatives had begged him to ride out and meet him;
but he refused, as he preferred spending the evening with us. We of
course thanked him profusely for his good-will and kindness; and we were
loud in the praises of the Mahdi, which evidently much pleased the
Khalifa. He now left us to attend evening prayers, and, on his return,
talked to us about Darfur; he also mentioned that Hussein Khalifa,
formerly Mudir of Berber, was expected within the next few days. So it
was true Berber had fallen; we had heard rumours to this effect, on the
Darfur frontier, but met no one whom we could ask confidentially about
it. The town must have fallen through the Jaalin; and now communication
with Egypt must be entirely cut off. This was terribly bad news. I
anxiously looked out for Hussein Khalifa's arrival; he would be able to
give us all the facts.

The Khalifa now left us for the night; and, utterly tired out, we
stretched out our weary limbs on the angarebs, and gave ourselves up to
our own thoughts. There were of course no lights; but in the dark I
heard Dimitri's mouth at work, and I had no doubt the man was again
chewing tobacco. Once more I spoke seriously to him, and warned him that
he would fare badly if discovered; to which he sleepily replied, that
his little stock of tobacco was now done, and that the bit in his mouth
was positively his very last piece.

Early the next day, after morning prayers, the Khalifa again came to see
us, and asked how we were getting on. Soon after Sheikh Hamed en Nil's
relatives arrived, and begged the Khalifa to allow them to present their
Sheikh to him; he was admitted into his presence as a penitent, his neck
in a sheba, his head sprinkled with ashes, and a sheepskin bound about
his loins. On entering, he knelt down, saying, "El afu ya sidi!"
(Pardon, sire!). Standing up, the Khalifa directed one of his servants
to remove the sheba, and take the ashes off his head, and then told him
to put on his clothes, which were being carried for him. This done, he
asked him to be seated; and the Sheikh, repeatedly begging pardon,
expressed his deep regret that his visit to the Mahdi had been so long
delayed. The Khalifa pardoned him, and promised to present him to the
Mahdi in the afternoon, when he also would, in all probability, forgive
him. "Master," said Hamed en Nil, "since you have pardoned me, I am now
happy, and at ease. I consider that your forgiveness is the same as the
Mahdi's; for you are of him, and he is of you," and saying these words,
he kissed the Khalifa's hand (he had cleverly repeated the words in the
proclamation already referred to).

After partaking of a breakfast of asida and milk, we separated; the
blowing of the ombeÿa, and the beating of drums, announced that the
Khalifa was about to ride; and horses were at once saddled. Directing my
servants to get two horses ready,--one for myself and the other for Said
Bey,--we mounted and soon caught up the Khalifa, who had gone on ahead.
He was riding for pleasure round the camp, accompanied by some twenty
footmen; on his right walked an enormous Black of the Dinka tribe, and
on his left, a very tall Arab named Abu Tsheka, whose duty it was to
help the Khalifa in and out of the saddle. When he came again to the
open space, he directed the horsemen to repeat yesterday's exercises;
and, after watching this for some time, we rode on to the end of the
camp, where he showed me the remains of an immense zariba and small
tumbled-in trench, which he told me had been one of Hicks's last halting
places before his annihilation, and where he had awaited reinforcements
from Tagalla. The trench had been made for his Krupp guns. The sight of
this awakened very sad memories; to think of the thousands, who but a
short time before had been camped in this great zariba having been
killed almost to a man, and that this disaster was the cause of my being
where I now was!

On our way back, the Khalifa took me to pay a visit to his brother
Yakub, whose huts were close to his own, the fences being merely
separated by a narrow passage. Yakub received me very kindly, and
appeared as pleased to see me as Abdullahi had been; he warned me to
serve him faithfully, which I of course promised to do. Yakub is a
somewhat shorter man than the Khalifa, broad-shouldered, with a round
face deeply pitted with small-pox; he has a small turned-up nose, and
slight moustache and beard; he is distinctly more ugly than handsome,
but has the art of talking in a curiously sympathetic way. He, too, like
the Mahdi and the Khalifa, smiled continually; and what wonder, when
their affairs were progressing so very satisfactorily! Yakub reads and
writes, and knows the Kuran by heart, whilst Abdullahi is comparatively
very ignorant. He is some years the Khalifa's junior, and is his trusted
and most powerful adviser. Woe to the unfortunate man who differs in
opinion with Yakub, or who is suspected of intriguing against him, he is
infallibly lost!

Partaking of some of the dates he offered me, I took leave of him and
returned to the rekuba, whence, in accordance with the Khalifa's order,
we proceeded to the mosque, and stayed till sunset, as we did the
previous day. Again the Mahdi preached renunciation, urging his hearers
to be ready for the Jehad, so as to enter into the future joys of
Paradise. Again and again, the faithful devotees, half intoxicated with
fanaticism, shouted his praises; whilst we poor wretches, enduring
agonies in our cramped position, imprecated in our hearts Mahdi,
Khalifa, and his whole crew of base hypocrites.

The next day, the Khalifa summoned us, and asked if we wished to return
to Darfur. I knew the question had only been put to us as a test; and we
at once answered with one voice, that we should deeply regret leaving
the Mahdi. I saw that he anticipated this answer, and, smiling, he
commended us for our wise decision. The Khalifa now, of his own accord,
suggested that a longer stay in the rekuba was probably distasteful to
us; he, therefore, sent Dimitri with a mulazem to the house of his
future Emir, who was a Greek, and he also gave instructions to Ahmed Wad
Suleiman to issue twenty dollars to him. After he had gone, he turned to
Said Bey, saying, "Said Guma, you are an Egyptian, and every one likes
his own compatriots best; we have with us several Egyptians, many of
proved fidelity. You are brave and I know I can count on you; you will
therefore join the Emir of all the Egyptians, Hassan Hussein, and he
will give you a house, and see to your requirements. I shall also do
what is necessary on my side." Said Bey was of course much pleased with
the arrangement. Then, turning to me, he said, "Abdel Kader, you are a
stranger here, and have no one else but me. You know well the Arabs of
Southern Darfur; therefore, in accordance with the Mahdi's orders, you
are to remain with me as a mulazem." "That is the very wish of my
heart," I answered readily; "I call myself fortunate to be able to serve
you, and you can rely on my obedience and fidelity." "I knew that," said
he; "may God protect you and strengthen your faith; you will no doubt be
of much use to both the Mahdi and myself."

Soon afterwards, the Emir Hassan Hussein came in; the Khalifa had
summoned him, and now recommended to his care Said Guma, who promised he
would do all he could for him. He also instructed him to send for Said
Bey's family, which had been left behind at Kobbé; and the latter,
taking a grateful leave of the Khalifa, proceeded, in company of a
mulazem, to Ahmed Wad Suleiman, who had been authorised to supply him
with forty dollars and a female slave.

Once more I was alone with the Khalifa, and again he repeated how
gratified he was to have me in his service, and always beside him; at
the same time he warned me not to associate with his near relatives,
whose jealous feelings might lead to an estrangement between us. He also
gave orders for some straw huts to be erected in the zariba next his
own, belonging to Abu Anga, who was now absent, fighting against the
Nubas; meanwhile he said I was to stay in the rekuba, and without fail
attend the Mahdi's noon-day and evening prayers. Thanking him profusely
for all these favours, I promised to do my utmost to please him and
continue in his good graces.

At supper the same evening, the Khalifa told me with delight that
Hussein Khalifa had arrived, and was to be presented the next day.
Consequently, at noon, the Khalifa received him with his relatives, in
ashes and sheba, just as he had received Sheikh Hamed en Nil. Knowing
what his feelings were as regards the Mahdists, I realised it must have
been a terrible humiliation for him to come in this way; but some of his
old friends who were now in high favour with the Mahdi, advised him to
do so, and he had consented. The Khalifa had the sheba and ashes
removed, pardoned him, and then presented me to him, and asked me to be
seated. Being a mulazem of the Khalifa, I was practically in the
position of a sort of servant, and as such I always stood up behind him,
and of course did my best to carry out my new rôle satisfactorily.
Abdullahi began the conversation by inquiring after the health of the
late Governor of Berber; and, receiving the usual replies, he then
turned to the situation on the river, and Hussein described the whole
country between Berber and Fashoda as being entirely with the Mahdi, and
communication between Egypt and the Sudan quite interrupted, whilst
Khartum, which was defended by Gordon, was invested by the Gezira
tribes. He naturally coloured the situation in the way which he knew
would be most acceptable to the Mahdi; and that he was favourably
impressing the Khalifa, was evident from the expressions of satisfaction
which escaped the latter as the narrative proceeded. Abdullahi promised
that at noon-day prayers he would present Hussein Khalifa to the Mahdi,
of whose forgiveness he might rest assured; in the meantime he was to
rest in the rekuba.

The Khalifa, having something to do, now left us together; but as there
were several of his relatives there whom I did not know, we could only
talk about our personal concerns, and congratulate each other on our
good fortune in becoming followers of the Mahdi. At noon, the Khalifa
returned, and took dinner with Hussein Khalifa, I also being invited to
partake of the meal. In the course of conversation, the Khalifa asked,
"Did you happen to see Mohammed Sherif, the former Sheikh of the Mahdi;
you must have passed his house on your way here? Is he still possessed
of that evil spirit which urges him to fight against the will of God,
and to refuse to acknowledge the Mahdi as his lord and master?"

"I spent a night at his house," replied Hussein Khalifa; "he has now
repented of his infidelity to God, and it is illness alone that prevents
him from coming here. Most of his former followers have joined those
besieging Khartum."

"It is better for him to serve the Mahdi," said Abdullahi; "now get
ready, and I shall present you to him."

Before prayers began, the Khalifa conducted him, as he had conducted me
a few days before, to the mosque, and bade him be seated; but I, being a
mulazem, now took up my position in the second line. On the Mahdi
approaching, the Khalifa and his guest stood up; and the latter, on
being presented, craved his pardon for the blindness of heart which had
hitherto prevented him from becoming one of his faithful adherents. He
was pardoned, and, on taking the oath of allegiance, was enjoined to
uphold faithfully the new doctrine, and attend prayers without fail. The
Mahdi, seeing me in the second line, directed me to come forward and
take up my position beside the Khalifa. "Drink of the river of my
words," said he, "and that will be of inestimable benefit to you." I
excused myself by saying that as mulazem of the Khalifa I did not think
it my place to stand beside my master, and had therefore joined the
second line. I was now praised for this act of self-abnegation; the
Mahdi added, however, that in future this should always be my position,
"For in the place of worship we are all alike."

After prayers, the Khalifa disappeared as usual, whilst Hussein Khalifa
and I remained in the mosque till sunset. My uncomfortable posture
brought more curses than prayers to my lips; but I had to put as good a
face as I could on the matter. That evening, we supped with the Khalifa,
and talked on general subjects, being continually warned to be honest
and sincere. To my great delight, Hussein Khalifa was directed to spend
that night in the rekuba; but his relatives were allowed to go home. The
Khalifa had left us, and the servants had retired, so we were quite
alone, and took this long-looked-for occasion to greet each other most
heartily, and to mutually bemoan the sad fate which brought us together
to this wretched position. "Hussein Pasha," said I, "I trust you and
yours may rest assured of my silence. Tell me what is the present
condition of Khartum, and what are the population doing?" "Alas!" he
replied, "it is exactly as I have already described it to the Khalifa.
Gordon's reading at Metemmeh of the proclamation abandoning the Sudan,
upset the situation entirely, and was indirectly the cause of the fall
of Berber. No doubt, it would have been lost later on; but this action
of Gordon's greatly precipitated it. At Berber, I stopped him from
taking this fatal step; and I cannot think what induced him to disregard
my advice almost immediately afterwards." We talked so long about the
situation and the various events that Hussein Pasha, who was old and
tired, fell asleep; but this conversation had banished all sleep from my
eyes. So this is to be the end, I thought, of all Gordon's efforts to
settle the country; and is all the blood and treasure expended in past
years to go for nothing? Now the Government wanted to abandon this great
country which, though hitherto it had not proved a financial benefit to
Egypt, was a land of great prospects, and could at least produce
thousands of splendid Black recruits with whom to fill the ranks of its
army. So the Government was to leave this country to its own people, and
yet to remain on friendly terms with it; it was to withdraw the
garrisons and war _matériel_, and to establish a form of local
Government, when a form of such Government had already sprung into
existence by the most violent of means,--namely, by the wholesale
overturning of every vestige of the authority which it was to replace,
and the massacre or capture of almost every individual representative of
the ousted ruling power.

To carry out this plan, they had sent Gordon in the hope that his
personal influence with the people, and their regard for him,--which he
was inclined to estimate somewhat highly,--would enable him to succeed
in this herculean task. Gordon, it is true, was popular with some of the
Western and Equatorial tribes, whom he had won over by his munificence
and his benevolent nature. During his stay in these districts, he had
constantly travelled about; and his noted courage and fearlessness in
action had won him the sympathy of those tribes whose greatest pride it
is to possess such qualities. Yes, there is no doubt he had been popular
with the Western Arabs: but they had now a Mahdi whom they adored; they
had almost forgotten Gordon. The Sudanese, it must be remembered, are
not Europeans; they are Arabs and Blacks, and are little given over to
sentimental feelings. But, in this particular case of the reading of the
proclamation, the people concerned were river tribes; and, of all
others, the Jaalin were perhaps the most hostile to Gordon, for they had
not forgotten the eviction of the Gellabas.

The mere fact that Gordon had come to Khartum without a force at his
back, proved to these people that he depended on his personal influence
to carry out his task; but, to those who understood the situation, it
was abundantly clear that personal influence at this stage was as a drop
in the ocean. Then what could have induced him to read that fatal
notice, proclaiming far and wide that the Government intended to abandon
the Sudan? At Hussein Pasha's advice, he had not read it at Berber; but
at Metemmeh, he had proclaimed it before all the people. Had Gordon
never been informed of the Mahdi's proclamations, sent to all the tribes
after the fall of El Obeid? Was he not aware that these proclamations
enjoined all the people to unite in a religious war against the
Government authority, and that those who disobeyed the summons, and were
found giving assistance to the hated Turk, were guilty of betraying the
faith, and as such would not only lose their money and property, but
their wives and children would become the slaves of the Mahdi and his
followers? Gordon's idea was to obtain the assistance of these tribes,
in order to facilitate the withdrawal of the garrisons; and he would
have come to terms with them to effect this object: but how could he
expect them to help him, when, in the words of that fatal proclamation,
it was decreed they were to be abandoned to their fate, and what would,
in this eventuality, have been their fate? Could they have opposed the
Mahdi, his forty thousand rifles, and his hosts of wild fanatics panting
for blood and plunder? No, indeed, these tribes were sensible enough to
understand that assistance given to Gordon to retreat, meant the
annihilation of themselves and the enslavement of their families; why
should they commit this self-sacrifice? How could Gordon's personal
influence avail him for an instant against the personal interests of
every man, woman, and child in the now abandoned Sudan?

If, for political or other reasons, it was impossible for the Government
to maintain the Sudan, or to re-conquer it by degrees, it was an equally
useless step to have sent Gordon there to sacrifice him. It did not
require a person of any special military capacity to remove the
garrisons and war _matériel_ by the steamers to Berber, under pretext of
relieving that town, and thus the whole or a considerable portion of the
Sudan garrisons might have been successfully withdrawn, though it would
have been necessary to do this without delay, and it could not have been
feasible after the fall of Berber; but Berber, it must be remembered,
did not fall till the 19th of May,--three months after Gordon's arrival
in Khartum. However, under any circumstances, the reading of that fatal
proclamation precipitated matters to an alarming extent; the intention
of the Government was openly declared to the Sudanese, and they
naturally, from that moment, looked to their own immediate interests,
which were now directly opposed to those of the Government so hopelessly
overturned by their victorious compatriot the Mahdi.

How could Gordon's qualities of personal bravery and energy, great as
they undoubtedly were, arrest the progress of events after that most
grave political error?

Perplexed and worried with such thoughts as these, I was tossing about
on my angareb, whilst Hussein Khalifa was snoring. There was no small
advantage in being a fatalist; but as yet I was too European to have
arrived at this stage, though gradually I learnt to look at such matters
with more equanimity, and my experiences in the Sudan have undoubtedly
taught me to practise that great virtue--patience.

The next morning, the Khalifa honoured us with a visit, and asked me why
my eyes were so red; I answered that, owing to a severe attack of fever,
I had passed a sleepless night, on which he advised me to take care of
myself and not to go into the sun; and he also excused me from attending
the Mahdi's prayers. However, when prayer-time came, I performed them
under the shade of the rekuba, and in the sight of the servants; as it
was my object to appear to them as devout as possible, well-knowing they
would report my every action to their master. The following day my huts
were ready, and, with the Khalifa's permission, I entered into
occupation. Hussein Khalifa had already been allowed to live with one of
his relatives; and he made a point of going through all five prayers
daily, in order to secure the good-will of the Mahdi and Khalifa, hoping
in this way to obtain their leave to go back to his own country. I
decided to remain as near the Khalifa as possible, and to only go
occasionally to the Mahdi when he recommended me to do so.

A few days afterwards, a rumour was spread through the camp that Abu
Girga had been attacked by Gordon, and had been wounded; his forces,
which were then investing Khartum, were reported to have been repulsed,
and the siege raised. This news filled my heart with delight, though
openly, I was obliged to appear quite unconcerned.

Saleh Wad el Mek now arrived in the camp; he had been obliged to submit
at Fedasi, and had been sent on by Abu Girga. He received the pardon of
the Khalifa and Mahdi, and confirmed the above news; he also privately
gave me much interesting information about Gordon. That evening, the
Khalifa summoned me to supper with him; and no sooner had we set to work
to tear the huge piece of meat before us, than he asked, "Have you heard
the news to-day about Hajji Mohammed Abu Girga?" "No," I replied,
hypocritically, "I did not leave your door the whole day, and have met
no one."

"Gordon," continued the Khalifa, "made a sudden attack on Hajji Mohammed
from both the river and the land, when the Blue Nile was in flood; and
he has built structures on the steamers which stop the bullets of our
faithful Ansar. The unbeliever is a cunning man; but he will reap God's
punishment. Hajji Mohammed's men, who have suffered, have been obliged
to retire before superior force. Gordon is now rejoicing in his victory;
but he is deceived. God will grant victory only to those who believe in
Him; and, in a few days, God's vengeance will fall upon him suddenly.
Hajji Mohammed is not man enough to conquer the country; the Mahdi is
therefore sending Abderrahman Wad en Nejumi to besiege Khartum."

"I hope," said I, "that Hajji Mohammed has not suffered serious loss?"
meaning in my heart exactly the reverse.

"Battles cannot be fought without loss," said the Khalifa, with some
truth; "but I have not heard the full details yet." He was anything but
affable to-day. Gordon's victory had thoroughly upset him; and he
evidently anticipated that the effect would be serious. When I returned
to my hut, I sent my servant to ask Saleh Wad el Mek if he could come
and see me secretly; he was only a few huts off, and arrived some
minutes afterwards. I told him the Khalifa's corroboration of the news;
but he had already heard it from his relatives; and we continued talking
over past and present till a late hour. This victory had raised my
spirits enormously, and I found myself chatting quite hopefully of the
future; but Saleh looked on the success as only temporary, and his
reasons for this view were, I felt, fully justifiable.

He explained that, very soon after Gordon's arrival at Khartum, the
effect of the fatal proclamation began to be felt, and his difficulties
increased. The Jaalin had begun to collect, and had chosen as their
chief, Haj Ali Wad Saad, who soon had at his disposal a considerable
force; but, for personal reasons, he was secretly inclined to the
Government, and therefore delayed actually fighting as long as possible.
The Consuls of the various nationalities at Khartum, seeing the
situation getting worse, had applied to Gordon to send them to Berber;
but it was doubtful if it would have been safe to let them go, and, at
Gordon's suggestion, they decided to remain. The inhabitants of Khartum
had themselves begun to look with mistrust on Gordon; for they realised,
from the proclamation of which they had heard, that Gordon had only come
to withdraw the garrison, though, later on, they thoroughly understood
that Gordon himself had come to conquer with them or to die. The Sheikh
El Obeid, one of the great religious Sheikhs of the Sudan, had collected
together his followers at Halfaya to besiege Khartum. Gordon had sent
troops under Hassan Pasha and Said Pasha Hussein, who had been formerly
Governor of Shakka, to drive the rebels out of their position; and,
watching the operations through a telescope from the top of the Palace,
he had seen his trusted officers endeavouring to make over his troops to
the enemy, whilst they themselves were retreating to Khartum. He had
tried these traitorous officers by general court-martial, and had had
them shot. In spite of this disaster, he had succeeded in relieving the
Shaigias, who were loyal to Government, and had brought them, under
their commander Sanjak Abdel Hamid Wad Mohammed, to Khartum.

Saleh Wad el Mek, himself invested by the rebels at Fedasi, had begged
Gordon to relieve him; but it was impossible to do so, and he had been
obliged to surrender with one thousand four hundred irregulars and
cavalry, with all their arms. In consequence of this success, Hajji
Mohammed Abu Girga had collected all the inhabitants of the Gezira to
besiege Khartum. Whilst these events were happening in the neighbourhood
of that town, the Mahdi's former teacher, Sheikh Mohammed el Kheir
(formerly Mohammed ed Diker), had come to the river, and had been
appointed by his early pupil Emir of Berber; he had placed all the
tribes in the province under his orders, and the latter, collecting
adherents from his own tribe, the Jaalin, and reinforced by the Barabra,
Bisharia, and other Arabs, had laid siege to Berber, which had fallen in
a few days.

The province of Dongola had hitherto held out, owing principally to its
crafty Mudir, Mustafa Bey Yawer, who had twice written to the Mahdi,
offering him his submission; but the latter, fearing to trust one of the
hated Turks, had sent his relative, Sayed Mahmud Ali, to join the
Shaigia Emir Sheikh el Heddai, who had already headed a disturbance in
the province, to take possession. But Mustafa Bey, secretly learning
that he was not acceptable, had fallen suddenly on Heddai at Debba, and,
encouraged by the presence of a British officer[11] in his province, had
followed up this success by inflicting a crushing defeat on the Mahdists
at Korti, in which both the Emirs Mahmud and Heddai were killed.

At Sennar, matters were not so satisfactory; it was closely invested,
but had large reserve supplies of corn. Communication with the outside
was, however, completely stopped, though Nur Bey, the brave commander,
had made a successful sortie which had driven off the rebels to some
distance, and enabled the town to breathe again.

Appeals now reached the Mahdi, from all parts, to come down to the
river; but he was in no particular hurry, for he knew that the country
was securely in his hands, and that it would require a large Egyptian or
foreign army to re-conquer it from him. Every Friday, he held a review
of his troops, at which he himself was always present. His force was
divided into three portions, each under the command of a Khalifa,
though, in addition, Khalifa Abdullahi was entitled "Reis el Gesh"
(Commander-in-chief of the Army). His own special division was known as
the Raya ez Zarga, or blue flag, and his brother Yakub represented him
as its commander. The Raya el Khadra, or green flag, was under the
command of the Khalifa Ali Wad Helu; while the red flag, the Raya el
Ashraf (flag of the nobles), was placed under Khalifa Mohammed Sherif.
Under each principal flag were grouped the flags of the various Emirs.

When the reviews took place, the Emirs of the Raya ez Zarga deployed
into line with their banners facing east; those of the green flag were
drawn up opposite to them, facing west; and, connecting these two lines,
and facing north, were the Emirs and flags of the Ashraf. The numbers of
the Mahdi's followers being now enormous, an immense square was thus
formed, open on one side; and the Mahdi and his staff, advancing to the
centre, would receive the salute, and would then ride along the lines,
welcoming his faithful adherents with the words, "Allah yebarek fikum!"
(May God bless you!)

During these Friday reviews, called Arda or Tarr, extraordinary
occurrences were said to take place. One would assert that he saw the
Prophet riding beside the Mahdi, and talking with him; others would say
they heard voices from Heaven, shouting blessings on the Ansar, and
promises of victory. They would even affirm that a passing cloud was
formed by angels' wings in order to give shade and refreshment to the
faithful.

About three days after the news had been received of Abu Girga's defeat,
an Italian named Joseph Cuzzi arrived at Rahad from Khartum; he had been
residing in Berber at the time of its fall, having been left behind by
A. Marquet, the agent of Debourg and Company, to wind up some of their
affairs. Mohammed el Kheir had sent him, as a prisoner, to Abu Girga,
and he had despatched him with a letter to Gordon; but the latter had
refused to see him, and had sent him back to the enemy's post, on the
east bank of the Blue Nile, opposite Khartum. The Mahdi now sent Cuzzi
back in company with a Greek named George Calamatino, with letters to
Gordon summoning him to submit. By the hands of this Greek, I also sent
secretly a few lines to Gordon Pasha. The Greek was permitted to enter
the lines; but Cuzzi was kept at a place some distance off, as, on the
first occasion on which he had come, he was reported by the officers to
have personally summoned them to surrender.

When the fast of Ramadan was over, Abu Anga and his entire fighting
force were recalled from Jebel Daïr; and the Mahdi then publicly
announced that the Prophet had directed him to proceed to Khartum and
lay siege to it. Every Emir was enjoined to collect his men, and order
them to prepare for the march; whilst any who remained behind were
declared lawful prey, and liable to total confiscation of all they
possessed. However, there was no hanging back on the part of the people,
whose fanaticism knew no bounds, and who were well aware that treasure
and plunder generally fell to the share of the faithful followers. The
consequence was that the Mahdi's summons brought about a wholesale
immigration of the entire population, such as had never before been seen
in the Sudan.

We left Rahad on 22nd August, the Mahdist forces marching by three
separate roads: the northern one, _via_ Khursi, Helba, and Tura el
Hadra, was selected by the camel-owning tribes; the central road, _via_
Tayara, Sherkéla, Shatt, and Duem, was taken by the Mahdi, Khalifas, and
the majority of the Emirs; whilst the Baggaras and cattle-owning tribes
adopted the southern route, which was well supplied with water, owing to
the frequent rain pools which served as drinking places for the cattle.
I, of course, in my capacity as mulazem of the Khalifa, followed my
master; but, as a rule, when halted in camp, I used to send my horses
and servants to Saleh Wad el Mek, who had joined the Mahdi's suite. The
Khalifa, however, for some unknown reason, had a particular aversion to
him, and ordered me in future to remain with my servants near him, and
charged his cousin, Osman Wad Adam, to look after me. Nevertheless,
every now and then, I used to see Saleh Wad el Mek, who was kept
informed of all that was happening in the Nile districts.

Just before arriving at Sherkéla, strange rumours were spread about
that an Egyptian who was a Christian had arrived at El Obeid, and was
now on his way to overtake the Mahdi. Some believed him to be the
Emperor of France; others affirmed that he was closely related to the
Queen of England. However, there was no doubt a European was coming, and
I was naturally most anxious to know who he could be. That evening, the
Khalifa told me a Frenchman had arrived at El Obeid, and that he had
sent orders for him to be brought to the Mahdi. "Do you belong to the
French race?" said he to me, "or are there different tribes in your
country, as there are here with us in the Sudan?"--he had not, of
course, the slightest knowledge of Europe and the European nations, and
I enlightened him as far as I thought necessary. "But what should a
Frenchman want with us, that he should come all that long distance?"
asked the Khalifa, inquiringly; "possibly God has converted him, and has
led him to the right way." "Perhaps," said I, "he is seeking your and
the Mahdi's friendship." The Khalifa looked at me incredulously, and
said curtly, "We shall see."

At length, we reached Sherkéla; and, scarcely had we halted, when my
master sent for me, and said, "Abdel Kader, the French traveller has
arrived; I have now ordered him to be brought before me. You had better
wait and listen to what he has to say; I may want you--" Almost
immediately afterwards, Hussein Pasha came in, and he too had evidently
been summoned by the Khalifa. After waiting some little time longer, a
mulazem announced that the stranger was waiting outside the hut; and he
was at once admitted. He was a tall, young-looking man, about thirty
years of age, I should say, and his face was much bronzed by the sun; he
had a fair beard and moustache, and wore a jibba and turban. He greeted
the Khalifa with "Salam aleikum;" and the latter, who did not rise from
his angareb, merely motioned him to be seated. "Why have you come here;
and what do you want from us?" were the Khalifa's first words to him; he
replied, in such broken Arabic that it was difficult to understand,
that he was a Frenchman, and had come from France. "Speak in your own
language with Abdel Kader," interrupted the Khalifa, "and he will
explain to me what you want." The stranger now turned and looked at me
distrustfully, saying, in English, "Good day, sir." "Do you speak
French?" said I, "my name is Slatin. Stick to business entirely now,
and, later on, we can speak privately." "What are you talking about
together," muttered the Khalifa, in an annoyed tone, "I wish to know
what he wants."

"I only told him my name," said I, "and urged him to speak openly to
you, as both you and the Mahdi are men to whom God has granted the power
to read the thoughts of others." Hussein Khalifa, who was sitting beside
me, now broke in, "That is true, indeed! May God prolong the Khalifa's
life;" and then, turning to me, he said, "you did well to call this
stranger's attention to the fact." The Khalifa, appeased and flattered,
now said, "Well, try and find out the truth."

"My name is Olivier Pain," said the stranger, whom I had now told to
talk in French, "and I am a Frenchman. Since I was quite a boy I was
interested in the Sudan, and sympathised with its people; it is not only
I, but all my compatriots, who feel the same. In Europe there are
nations with whom we are at feud; one of these is the English nation
which has now settled in Egypt, and one of whose generals, Gordon, is
now commanding in Khartum. I have therefore come to offer you my
assistance, and that of my nation."

"What assistance?" interrupted the Khalifa, to whom I was translating
word for word Olivier Pain's statement.

"I can only offer you advice," said Pain; "but my nation, which is
anxious to gain your friendship, is ready to help you practically with
arms and money, under certain conditions."

"Are you a Mohammedan?" asked the Khalifa, as if he had not heard what
he had said.

"Yes, certainly," said he; "I have been of this faith for a long time,
and at El Obeid I openly acknowledged it."

"Well," said the Khalifa, "you and Hussein can stay here with the
Frenchman, whilst I will go and let the Mahdi know, and I shall then
come back to you."

When the Khalifa had gone, I shook hands with Olivier Pain, and
introduced him to Hussein Khalifa; but I confess to feeling considerably
prejudiced against him by his offer to assist our enemies. However, I
urged him to be most careful, and to say that he had been induced to
come here rather out of love for religion than for political motives.
Even Hussein Pasha, who was evidently very much annoyed, said in Arabic
to me, "Is that what you call politics,--to offer money and arms to
people whose only object is to kill others, rob them of their property,
and enslave their wives and daughters? Yet if one of us, no matter how
poor he may be, buys a Black slave who is really little better than an
animal, except that he can till the ground, you call it wicked and
cruel, and punish us most severely."

"Malaish!" (Never mind!) said I, "he who lives long sees much."

We were now occupied with our own thoughts, whilst waiting for the
Khalifa's return; and at length he arrived, ordered us to make our
ablutions and prepare to attend the Mahdi's prayers. Having done so, the
Khalifa leading, we went to the place of worship, where there was an
immense concourse of people who, having heard of Olivier Pain's arrival,
were indulging in the wildest speculations about him. After we had taken
our places, Pain was directed to the second row, and the Mahdi now
arrived. He was dressed in his speckless and beautifully perfumed jibba;
his turban was more carefully folded than usual, and his eyes were well
painted with antimony, which gave them a more fiery expression. He had
evidently done his utmost to appear to the greatest possible advantage.
No doubt he was pleased and flattered that a man should have come from
so far to offer him assistance. He now sat himself down on his
prayer-carpet, and, calling up Olivier Pain before him, greeted him
with a very beaming smile, but did not shake hands with him, and, using
me as an interpreter, asked him to explain why he had come here.

Pain reiterated the same story as before, which the Mahdi told me to
repeat in a sufficiently loud voice for every one to hear; and, when I
had finished, he said, in an equally loud tone, "I have heard your
intentions, and have understood them; but I do not count on human
support, I rely on God and His Prophet. Your nation are unbelievers, and
I shall never ally myself with them. With God's help, I shall defeat my
enemies through my brave Ansar, and the hosts of angels sent to me by
the Prophet." Shouts of acclamation from thousands upon thousands of
throats greeted this speech; and, when order had been restored, the
Mahdi said to Pain, "You affirm that you love our faith, and acknowledge
that it is the true one; are you a Mohammedan?"

"Certainly," answered he, repeating the creed, "La ilaha illallah,
Mohammed Rasul Allah," in a loud voice. The Mahdi after this gave him
his hand to kiss, but did not administer the oath of allegiance.

We now took up our positions in the ranks of the faithful, and repeated
prayers with the Mahdi; and, that over, the Divine Master gave us one of
his usual sermons on salvation and renunciation. We then departed with
the Khalifa, who directed me to take Olivier Pain to my tent, and there
await further instructions.

Once alone with Pain in my tent, I could talk to him without fear of
interruption. I had the strongest aversion to his mission; but I pitied
the man who, if he thought to succeed in such an enterprise in this
country, was the victim of so absurd a delusion. I again greeted him
heartily, saying, "Now, my dear Mr. Olivier Pain, we shall be quite
undisturbed for a few minutes; let us speak frankly. Although I do not
agree with your mission, I assure you, on my word as an officer, I will
do all in my power to secure your personal safety. I have now been for
years an exile from the civilised world; tell me something about outside
affairs."

"I trust you thoroughly," he replied; "I know you well by name, and have
often heard of you, and I thank my good fortune which has brought me to
you. There is a great deal to tell you; but for the present I will
confine myself to Egypt, which must interest us most."

"Tell me then," said I, "all about the revolt of Ahmed Arabi Pasha,
about the massacres, about the intervention of the Powers, and about
England, which has just occupied Egypt."

"I," said he, "am working for the 'Indépendence' with Rochefort, of whom
you must have heard. England and France are politically antagonistic;
and we do what we can to put as many difficulties as possible in
England's way. I have not come here as a representative of my nation,
but as a private individual with, however, the knowledge and concurrence
of my nation. The English authorities, discovering my intentions, issued
a warrant of arrest against me, and I was sent back from Wadi Halfa; but
on my way down the river at Esna I agreed secretly with some Alighat
Arabs to bring me here by the road running west of Dongola, through El
Kaab, to El Obeid. To-day the Mahdi has received me most kindly, and I
hope for the best."

"Do you think that your proposal will be accepted?" said I.

"Should my proposal be refused," he answered, "I still hope the Mahdi
will be induced to enter into friendly relations with France; for the
present that will be quite sufficient, and, as I have come here of my
own free will, I trust the Mahdi will not make my return impossible."

"That is very questionable," said I; "but have you left a family at
home?"

"Oh, yes," answered Pain, "I have left my wife and two children in
Paris; I often think of them, and hope to see them soon again. But tell
me, sir, frankly, why should I be detained?"

"My dear sir," I replied, "as far as I know these people, I do not think
you need at present have any fear for your own safety; but when and how
you are going to get away from them, it is beyond my power to say. What
I sincerely hope is, that your proposals, which may be advantageous to
the enemy,--and I admit these Mahdists are my most bitter enemies,--will
not be accepted, and I also hope they will allow you to return
unmolested to your wife and children, who must be anxiously awaiting
you."

Meanwhile I had told my servants to get us something to eat; and I had
sent for Gustav Klootz, O'Donovan's former servant, to share our meal
with us. We had scarcely begun, when two of the Khalifa's mulazemin
entered, and told Olivier Pain to follow them. He was much taken aback
at being called off alone, and, in a whisper, commended himself to me.
It also struck me as curious, for Pain's Arabic was quite
unintelligible. I was talking about this to Mustafa (Klootz), when I
also received a summons, and, on entering the Khalifa's hut, I found him
quite alone; he motioned to me to be seated, and I sat on the ground
beside him.

"Abdel Kader," said he, confidentially, "I look on you as one of us;
tell me what do you think of this Frenchman?"

"I believe he is sincere and means well," said I; "but he did not know
the Mahdi nor you; he did not understand that you trusted only in God,
and sought no support from other powers, and that this is the cause of
your continual victories, because God is with those who put their trust
in Him!"

"You heard the Mahdi's words," continued the Khalifa, "when he said to
the Frenchman that he wished to have nothing to do with unbelievers, and
that he could defeat his enemies without their help?"

"Most certainly I did," I replied; "and therefore the man is useless
here, and may as well return to his nation, and tell them about the
victories of the Mahdi and his commander-in-chief, the Khalifa."

"Perhaps later," said the Khalifa; "for the present, I have ordered him
to stay with Zeki Tummal, who will take all care of him, and attend to
his wants."

"But it will be very difficult for him to make himself understood in
Arabic," I pleaded; "he is by no means a good Arabic scholar yet."

"He has been able to get here without an interpreter," answered the
Khalifa; "however, you have my permission to visit him." He then talked
about other things, and showed me the horses Zogal had sent him from
Darfur, some of which I knew very well. After leaving my master, I went
in search of Pain, whom I found sitting under the shade of a very
battered old tent, his head resting on his hands, and evidently in deep
thought; when he saw me, he at once rose, saying, "I don't know what to
think about it all. I have been ordered to stay here; my baggage has
been brought, and I am told that a certain Zeki has been ordered to look
after me. Why don't they let me stay with you?"

"It is the Mahdi's nature; and the Khalifa is even worse in working his
will in contrariety to every human being under the sun. You are going
through a course of what they call 'putting one to the test in patience,
submission, and faith,'" said I, by way of sympathy; "but you need have
no fear. The Khalifa suspects us both, and is anxious to keep us apart,
so that we should not criticise his actions. Here comes Zeki Tummal. He
was with me in many a fight; I will strongly commend you to him." I had
now advanced to meet Zeki, who shook hands with me, and asked how I was.
"My friend," said I to him, "this is a stranger and your guest. I
recommend him to your kind care; be forbearing with him for old
acquaintance sake."

"I shall let him want for nothing as far as it is in my power to do so,"
he replied; and then, more slowly, he said, "but the Khalifa has told me
not to let him have any intercourse with others, and I therefore beg you
will come here only very occasionally."

"These orders do not apply to me," said I; "just this moment I left our
master's hut, and he has given me special permission to visit your
guest. So again I beg you to treat this poor man with all
consideration."

I then returned to Pain and tried to cheer him up, telling him that the
Khalifa had given orders he was not to be allowed to see other people;
but this, I said, was no disadvantage, for they would probably have used
the occasion to intrigue against him, and so put him in danger. As
regards myself, however, I said I would come to see him as often as
possible.

The next morning, the Khalifa's great war-drum, called "El Mansura" (the
victorious), was beaten; this was the signal for the march to begin
again, and off we started. We generally marched from early morning till
noon only, and thus our progress was not rapid. When we halted at
midday, I went to look for Pain, and found him sitting under his tent as
before; he appeared in good health, but complained about the bad food.
Zeki, who was present whilst we were speaking, said that he had twice
sent him some asida, but he would not touch it. I explained that he was
not, of course, accustomed to native food yet, and that therefore I
proposed getting my servant to prepare some food specially for him; and,
returning at once, I ordered him to make some soup and boil some rice,
and take it to Olivier Pain. That evening the Khalifa asked me if I had
seen him. I told him I had; but that, as he was not accustomed yet to
native food, I had ordered my servant to prepare something else. I
explained that if he were forced to eat the native food he might get
ill; and that therefore, with his permission, I proposed sending him,
every now and then, something special. The Khalifa assented. "But," said
he, "you eat of our food; it would therefore be better he should get
used to it as soon as possible. By-the-bye where is Mustafa? I have not
seen him since we left Rahad?"

"He is staying with me, and helps my servants to look after the horses
and camels," said I.

"Then send for him," said the Khalifa. I did so; and in a few minutes he
entered and stood before us. "Where have you been? I have not seen you
for weeks," said the Khalifa, angrily. "Have you forgotten that I am
your master?"

"With your permission I went to Abdel Kader, whom I help in his work.
You do not care for me now, and have left me alone," replied Klootz, in
an annoyed tone.

"Then I will take good care of you in the future," cried the Khalifa,
still more angrily; and, calling in a mulazem, he ordered him to take
Mustafa to his clerk, Ben Naga, who should put him in chains. Mustafa,
without uttering a word, followed his guard.

"Mustafa and you," continued the Khalifa, "have servants enough; and you
can quite well do without him. I took him for myself; but he left me
without any cause. I then ordered that he should serve my brother Yakub;
but he complained and left him too; and now that he is with you, he
thinks he can dispense with us altogether."

"Pardon him," said I, "he is merciful who forgives. Let him stay with
your brother; perhaps he will improve."

"He must remain a few days in chains," he answered, "so that he may know
I am his master; he is not the same as you, who come every day to my
door;" this he evidently said to quiet me, as he thought I was getting
annoyed. He then ordered supper to be brought in; and I ate more than
usual, so that he should not imagine I was doing anything contrary to
his orders. He talked very little during the meal, and seemed out of
spirits. After supper he made an attempt to say something kind; but I
felt that his words belied him. We then separated, and, as I returned to
my tent, I thought over the situation. I had resolved to remain on as
good terms as I could with the Khalifa, until the hour of my deliverance
should come; but his imperious character, want of consideration, and
immense self-conceit made my task a most difficult one. I had daily
before my eyes the examples of several mulazemin whom he had thrown into
chains, flogged, and deprived of their property (known as "tegrid") on
the slightest provocation. He judged very quickly, being actuated
entirely by his feelings at the moment, and loved to show that he was
master. I will now give an example of the sort of man I had to deal
with.

Abu Anga, the commander of the Black troops (Jehadia), and his brother,
Fadl Maula, who was his assistant, were both sons of a liberated slave
who had borne them to one of the Khalifa's relatives. Fadl Maula had a
great friend and adviser in Ahmed Wad Yunes of the Shaigia tribe, and
these two presented themselves before the Khalifa one day, when Fadl
Maula asked his master's permission for Yunes to marry a certain girl,
and give him his blessing. It happened, however, that the Khalifa was in
a bad humour, and wished to show his authority; so he immediately
ordered the girl's father to be brought before him, and asked him, in
the presence of the others, if he wished to give his daughter in
marriage to Yunes; and, on the man answering in the affirmative, the
Khalifa said, "I have decided, and consider it to the girl's advantage
that she should marry Fadl Maula. Have you any objection?" Of course the
girl's father had to assent, and, without a moment's hesitation, the
Khalifa, turning to his attendants, ordered them to read the marriage
"Fatha," or form of prayer and blessing on marriage. This was done, and
dates were partaken of. The Khalifa then dismissed all those present,
and Fadl Maula departed one wife to the good, whilst Yunes was one hope
the poorer; but what the girl said about the new arrangement, I cannot
tell.

With a master of this character, one had to be very careful.

After five days' march, we reached Shatt, where most of the wells were
filled up, and had to be reopened, and several straw huts erected; for
the Mahdi had decided to halt here for some days. During the march, I
frequently visited Pain, who daily grew more and more disheartened about
the situation. He knew very little Arabic, and was not permitted to talk
to any one but the slaves charged with looking after him. In a few
days, the object of his mission had vanished from his mind, and he
thought now only of his wife and children. I urged him to look more
hopefully on the future, and not to give way to depressing thoughts
which would only make him more miserable. The Khalifa seemed to have
almost forgotten his existence, and scarcely ever asked for him.

The day after our arrival at Shatt, the Mahdi's former Sheikh, Mohammed
Sherif, who had been expected for so long, at length arrived. He also
had been forced by his friends, and by fear, to come to the Mahdi as a
penitent; but the latter received him most honourably, and himself led
him to the tents he had specially pitched for him, and also presented
him with two exceptionally pretty Abyssinian girls, horses, etc. By this
generous treatment, the Mahdi attracted to himself almost all Mohammed
Sherif's secret adherents.

In the course of time, the Khalifa forgave Mustafa, allowed him to live
with his clerk Ben Naga, and permitted him to talk to me.

Just at the time we left Sherkéla, news arrived that Gordon's troops had
suffered a severe reverse; and now in Shatt we received the detailed
accounts of the overthrow of Mohammed Ali Pasha at Om Debban by the
Sheikh El Obeid.

It appeared that when Gordon had defeated the Halfaya rebels at Buri, he
despatched Mohammed Ali with two thousand men to disperse the Mahdists
collected at Om Debban, the village of the Sheikh El Obeid. Mohammed
Ali's career had been very rapid: at his own request he had left me in
Darfur with the rank of adjutant-major; Gordon had promoted him to
major; and, during the siege, he had risen to the rank of colonel, and
soon afterwards to that of general. The force which he commanded against
the Sheikh El Obeid was composed mostly of irregulars, and he was
accompanied by crowds of women and slaves seeking for plunder. When on
the march between El Eilafun and Om Debban, he was attacked suddenly
from all sides, and his force was almost entirely annihilated; only a
few escaped to bring the sad news to Khartum, where the grief was
intense, and to Gordon it must have indeed been a terrible blow.

This success had encouraged the rebels to press the siege more closely;
and now, reinforced as they were by Wad en Nejumi and his hosts, Gordon
found himself not strong enough to make a successful attack on the
Mahdists.

From Shatt we now advanced to Duem, where the Mahdi held an enormous
review; and, pointing to the Nile, he said, "God has created this river;
He will give you its waters to drink, and you shall become the
possessors of all the lands along its banks." This speech was greeted
with shouts of joy by these wild fanatics, who at once believed that the
wonderful land of Egypt was to be their prey.

From Duem we proceeded to Tura el Hadra, where we spent the Feast of
Great Bairam; Olivier Pain was suffering from fever, and was growing
more and more depressed. "I have tried many ventures in my life," said
he, "without thinking much beforehand of the consequences; but my coming
here was a fatal mistake. It would have been very much better for me if
the English had succeeded in preventing me from carrying out my design."
I did my best to comfort him, but he only shook his head.

At the Feast of Bairam, the Mahdi repeated prayers in an unusually loud
voice; and when he read the "Khutba," he wept long and bitterly. We
unbelievers well knew that this weeping was hypocrisy, and boded no
good; but it had the desired effect on the fanatical crowds who had
flocked to his banners from the river tribes, and who were roused by
this touching sermon to the highest pitch of enthusiasm.

After a halt of two days, we again moved on, creeping forward like a
great tortoise, so swelled were we by the thousands upon thousands who
were now joining daily from every part of the Sudan. Poor Olivier had
grown considerably worse; his fever had turned to typhus. He begged me
to induce the Mahdi to let him have some money, as he was so pestered by
the begging appeals of his attendants. I went to him, and explained
Pain's condition; and the Mahdi at once sent to the Beit el Mal for £5,
and wished the sick man a speedy recovery. I had also told the Khalifa
of Pain's serious illness, and that the Mahdi had given him £5; but he
blamed me for having asked for it without his permission, adding, "If he
dies here, he is a happy man. God in His goodness and omnipotence has
converted him from an unbeliever to a believer."

Early in the morning, at the end of the first week in October, I was
sent for by Pain, and found him so weak that he could not stand up. For
two days he had not touched the food I had sent him; and, placing his
hand in mine, he said, "My last hour has come; I thank you for your
great kindness and care of me. The last favour I have to ask of you is
this: when you escape from the hands of these barbarous people, and you
happen to go to Paris, tell my unfortunate wife and children my dying
thoughts were for them." As he said these words, tears rolled down the
poor man's hollow and sunken cheeks. Again I tried to comfort him,
saying that it was too soon to give up hope; and as the war-drum was
beating for the advance, I had to hurry away and leave him. It was the
last time I saw him alive. I left behind with him one of my servants
named "Atrun" (Natron), and during the march I told the Khalifa of
Pain's condition, urging him to leave the poor man behind at some
village where he might have a few days' rest; he told me to remind him
of it that evening. The evening came, but no sick man arrived; Atrun
came alone. "Where is Yusef?" (this was Pain's Mohammedan name), said I,
for the boy seemed much agitated. "My master is dead," he answered; "and
that is the reason we are so late." "Dead!" said I. "Yes, dead and
buried," replied Atrun.

"Tell me at once what has happened," I asked. "My master Yusef was so
weak," said he, "that he could not ride; but we had to go on marching.
Every now and then he lost consciousness; then he would come to again
and talk words we could not understand. So we tied an angareb on to the
saddle, and laid him on it; but he was too weak to hold on, and he fell
down suddenly and very heavily. After this he did not come to again, and
he was soon dead; so we wrapped him up in his farda [cotton shawl], and
buried him, and all his effects were taken to Zeki by his slaves."

Olivier Pain was undoubtedly very seriously ill; but the fall was
probably the immediate cause of his sudden death. Poor man! with what a
high sounding mission he had come; and now this was the end of it all! I
immediately went to the Khalifa, and reported his death to him. "He is a
happy man," was his curt remark; he then despatched a mulazem to warn
Zeki to have all his effects carefully kept, and he sent me to the Mahdi
to apprise him of his end. The latter took it to heart much more than
the Khalifa, said several sympathetic words, and repeated the prayers
for the dead.

After three days, we reached the neighbourhood of Khartum, and halted at
a place about one day's journey from the city. On our way, we had seen
Gordon's steamers in the distance; they had come up evidently to watch
our movements, and had returned again without firing.

It was evening, and we had just finished pitching camp, when a mulazem
of the Mahdi arrived, and directed me to follow him; I went at once, and
found him sitting with Abdel Kader Wad Om Mariam, formerly Kadi of
Kalakla, and a man who exercised a great influence on the people of the
White Nile. Hussein Khalifa was also there; and I formed the fourth of
the party.

"I have sent for you," said the Mahdi, "to tell you to write to Gordon
to save himself from certain defeat. Tell him that I am the true Mahdi,
and that he ought to surrender with his garrison, and thus save himself
and his soul. Tell him also, that if he refuses to obey, we shall every
one of us fight against him. Say that you yourself will fight against
him with your own hands. Say that victory will be ours, and that you
merely tell him this in order to avoid useless bloodshed."

I remained silent till Hussein Khalifa called on me to answer. "O
Mahdi!" said I, "listen, I beg of you, to my words. I will be honest and
faithful; and I pray you to forgive me, if what I say is not pleasing to
you. If I write to Gordon that you are the true Mahdi, he will not
believe me; and if I threaten to fight against him with my own hands, he
will not be afraid of that. Now as you desire, under any circumstances,
to avoid shedding blood, I shall simply summon him to surrender. I shall
say that he is not strong enough to attempt to fight against you who are
ever-victorious, as he has no hope of help from outside; and, finally, I
shall say that I will be the intermediary between you and him."

"I accept your sincere proposal," said the Mahdi; "go now and write the
letters, and to-morrow they shall be despatched to Gordon."

I now returned to my quarters. My tent, owing to the difficulties of
transport, had been torn to shreds, and I had made a present of the rags
to some one; I had in place of it stretched some strips of cloth on
sticks, and thus provided a slight shade for myself during the daytime,
whilst at night I slept in the open. Searching about for a lantern, I
wrote the letters seated on an angareb under the open sky. First I wrote
a few lines to Gordon in French, explaining that I was writing to him
fully in German because, my French Dictionary having been burnt by the
Mahdists, who thought it was a Prayer Book, I did not feel capable of
expressing myself as I wished in that language. I said that I hoped I
should soon have an opportunity of joining him; and I prayed God that he
might be successful. I also mentioned that some of the Shaigias who had
recently joined the Mahdi did so to save their wives and children, and
not because they entertained any feelings of hostility towards Gordon.

I then wrote a long letter to him in German, saying that I had learnt
through George Calamatino that he was annoyed at my capitulation, and
that therefore I took the liberty of placing the facts of the case
before him, begging him to form his opinion accordingly. I began by
recalling my campaigns against Sultan Harun and Dud Benga, and
explaining how, on the outbreak of the Mahdi revolt, the few officers
left, believing that Arabi Pasha had succeeded in driving the Europeans
out of the country, had spread reports that my recent defeats lay in the
fact that I was a Christian; how I had stifled the injurious effects of
these intrigues by giving out that I was a Mohammedan; and how I had, by
this means, been subsequently successful until the annihilation of
Hicks' army had cut off all hope of relief. I told him how my constant
fights had reduced my available force to some seven hundred men; that my
stock of ammunition was well-nigh exhausted; that both officers and men
desired capitulation: and what therefore could I do--a European and
alone--but submit. I told him how this surrender had been one of the
hardest acts of my life; but that as an Austrian officer I felt that I
had not acted in a dishonourable manner. I then went on to say that by
obedient and submissive behaviour I had in some measure gained the
confidence of the Mahdi and the Khalifa, and had obtained their
permission to write to him, on the pretext that I was asking him to
surrender; but that, instead, I availed myself of this opportunity to
offer him my services in order to assure him that I was ready to
conquer, or die with him, if God willed, an honourable death. Should he
agree to be an accessory to my escape to Khartum, I begged him to write
me a few lines in French to that effect; but, in order to carry through
the ruse, I suggested that he should also write me a few lines in
Arabic, asking me to obtain the Mahdi's permission to come to Omdurman,
in order to discuss with him the conditions of surrender. I went on to
tell him that Saleh Bey and several of the Sheikhs wished to express
their loyalty and devotion to him; but that, under the circumstances,
it was impossible for them to come to him, as, by so doing, they would
necessarily sacrifice their wives and children.

I now wrote a third letter, in German, to Consul Hansal, asking him to
do his utmost to arrange that I should re-enter Khartum, as, being
thoroughly cognisant of the Mahdi's plans, intentions, strength, etc., I
believed I could be of great service to General Gordon; but, at the same
time, as rumours had been in circulation in the Mahdi's camp that, if
relief should not soon come, Gordon intended to surrender the town, and
as at that time I was quite ignorant of Gordon's prospects of relief, I
begged Consul Hansal to inform me of this, as, in the event of the town
being surrendered subsequent to my having entered Khartum, I should
naturally be the Mahdi's lawful victim on which to vent all his anger at
my escape and my efforts to aid his enemies.

It seemed to me that it was quite reasonable on my part to seek some
such assurance. At the same time, rumours being current in the camp that
the Khartum garrison were much out of heart and wished to surrender, I
strongly urged Hansal in my letter not to feel discouraged, pointing out
that the Mahdi's forces were not so numerous as he imagined, and that it
only required energy and perseverance on the part of the Egyptian troops
to be eventually successful, and I urged that they should wait at least
six weeks, or two months, longer before submitting, so as to give the
relief expedition a chance of saving them.[12]

I also told him there was a rumour in camp that the small steamer which
had been sent to Dongola had been wrecked at Wadi Gamr; but that I was
not at present in a position to say whether it was true or not.

Early the next morning, the 15th October, I took these letters to the
Mahdi and he told me to send them by one of my boys to Omdurman. I at
once went and fetched Morgan Fur, a boy of about fifteen years of age,
and handed him the letters in the Mahdi's presence; and the latter
ordered Wad Suleiman to give him a donkey and some money. Before sending
him off, I gave him the most strict injunctions to speak to no one in
Khartum except to Gordon Pasha and Consul Hansal, and to assure them
that I wished to come to them.

At midday, some horsemen arrived from Berber, confirming the news of the
wreck of the steamer, and of the murder of Colonel Stewart, and those
with him. The men brought with them all the papers and documents found
on board; and I was ordered by the Khalifa to examine those written in
European languages in Ahmed Wad Suleiman's office. Amongst them, I found
several private letters from people in Khartum, as well as official
documents and records. The most important of these was, of course, the
military report describing the daily occurrences in Khartum; it was
unsigned, but I had no doubt it was General Gordon's. A portion only of
the correspondence, etc., was shown to me; and before I had had time to
peruse it fully, I was again summoned before the Mahdi, who asked me
what the contents were. I replied, that most of them were private
letters, and that there was a military report, which I did not
understand. Unfortunately amongst the captured correspondence were
numbers of Arabic letters and reports, from which the Mahdi and the
Khalifa were able to thoroughly grasp the situation in Khartum. There
was also a half-cyphered Arabic telegram from General Gordon to His
Highness the Khedive, which Abdel Halim Effendi, formerly head clerk in
Kordofan, was able to decypher. Amongst the consular reports, I found a
notice of the death in Khartum of my old friend Ernst Marno, who had
succumbed to fever.

The Mahdi now discussed, in my presence, what papers should be sent to
Gordon, in order to convince him that the steamer had been wrecked, and
Colonel Stewart and the others killed, thinking that this would force
Gordon to surrender. I pointed out that the only document likely to
convince Gordon, was his military report, which I suggested should be
returned; and, after a long discussion, it was decided to send it.

The crowds accompanying the Mahdi were now complaining greatly of the
want of corn and dhurra; the price of an ardeb had risen to eighteen
medjidie dollars, which were then equivalent to about nine pounds
sterling. This extraordinary rate of exchange had been brought about by
the scarcity of dollars, in consequence of which the treasurer had
ordered the money captured at Berber--some £70,000 to £80,000 in
gold--to be sent to the Mahdi's camp; and this had been distributed. At
times, a sovereign valued even as little as a dollar and a half. Though
dhurra was so expensive, the prices of sheep and cattle were unusually
low,--a good ox or cow could be purchased for a dollar and a half or two
dollars, and a calf for half a dollar. This arose from the fact that an
immense number of cattle-owning Arabs had immigrated with the Mahdi from
the west, and had brought their flocks and herds with them to the river;
here the pasturage was quite insufficient for such quantities of
animals. The Mahdi had therefore preached a sermon to the herdsmen, to
the effect that tending flocks and herds, at the present time, was a
useless occupation, and that all their attention should now be centred
on fighting the religious war; consequently these ignorant people
followed his advice, and sold their cattle at these absurdly low rates.

The next evening, my boy Morgan returned from his mission, but brought
no reply. When I inquired how this was, he said, he had reached Omdurman
fort, had delivered his letters, and, after waiting for a short time,
the commandant had told him to return, as there was no answer. I at once
took the boy to the Mahdi, to whom he repeated what had occurred; and
afterwards I went and informed the Khalifa. That same evening, the Mahdi
again summoned me, and ordered me to write another letter, which he said
Gordon would be sure to answer, when he heard of the loss of the
steamer. I at once expressed myself ready to carry out his wishes; and
he directed that my boy Morgan should again act as messenger. Once more
I betook myself to my angareb, and, by the flickering light of an old
lantern, scribbled another letter, reporting the loss of the steamer,
the death of Stewart, and repeating much of what I had said in my first
letters, adding that if, in his opinion, I had done anything contrary to
the honour of an officer, and if that had hindered him from writing to
me, I begged he would give me a chance of defending myself, and thus
give himself an opportunity of coming to a correct judgment.

Early the next morning, I went again with Morgan to the Mahdi; the
latter ordered Ahmed Wad Suleiman to supply him with a donkey, and,
taking my letter, he went off, returning the following morning with a
reply from Consul Hansal, written in German, with an Arabic translation;
it ran as follows:--

    DEAR FRIEND SLATIN BEY,--Your letters have been duly received,
    and I request you will come to Tabia Ragheb Bey [Omdurman fort].
    I wish to speak to you about the steps to be taken for our
    rescue; you may then return unmolested to your friend.

    Yours very truly,
    (Signed) HANSAL.

This letter puzzled me somewhat; I could not be sure if it was written
with the object merely of deceiving the Mahdi, in which case the Arabic
was amply sufficient for the purpose; but I thought he might have
written more clearly in German, though perhaps he conceived there might
have been some one else with the Mahdi who understood that language, and
I might have been thereby endangered. Then, taking the letter literally,
he seemed to hint at joining us himself,--indeed we had already heard
rumours that he, becoming alarmed at the probable fall of the town,
wished to submit with the other Austrian subjects to the Mahdi; but it
was of course quite impossible to say if he meant this or not. Then
again, as regards my joining Gordon in Khartum, could he really mean
that the latter had refused to listen to my request, or was his
expression that I "may then return unmolested to my friend" merely meant
as a blind to the Mahdi?--I confess I was utterly perplexed; my
suspense, however, was not of long duration.

I at once took the letter to the Mahdi, and explained to him that the
Arabic text exactly corresponded with the German original. When he had
finished reading it, he asked me if I wished to go, and I replied that I
was ready to comply with his orders, and that my services were always at
his disposal.

"I am rather afraid," said he, "that if you go to Omdurman to speak to
your Consul, Gordon may arrest or kill you. Why did he not write to you
himself, if he thinks well of you?"

"I do not know why he is so silent," said I; "perhaps it is contrary to
his orders to enter into communication with us; however, when I meet
Hansal I may be able to arrange matters. You say you are afraid Gordon
might arrest me; but I am not, and even if he did I am quite sure you
could release me; but as to his killing me, that is altogether out of
the question."

"Well," said the Mahdi, "get yourself ready to go, and I will let you
know."

On my way to the Mahdi's hut, I had heard of Lupton Bey's arrival from
Bahr el Ghazal; and now, on my way back, I went in search of him, and
found him outside the Khalifa's door waiting to be received. Although it
was against rules to speak to any one before he had received the Mahdi's
pardon, I could not resist greeting him heartily, and, in a few words,
told him about the letters; and he said he earnestly hoped I might be
allowed to go to Khartum. He told me he had left his servants and the
rest of his people at some hours' distance, and he asked me to obtain
the Khalifa's permission for them to come in. A few minutes afterwards,
he was summoned before the Khalifa, obtained his pardon, was told that
he might go and bring in his people, and that he would be presented to
the Mahdi on his return.

Meanwhile, I went back to my quarters, and lay on my angareb impatiently
awaiting my orders to be allowed to go to Omdurman; or had the Mahdi,
perhaps, changed his mind, and decided not to let me go? At length, one
of my boys came and told me that a mulazem of the Khalifa's wished to
see me, and, getting up, he told me to follow him to Yakub's camp, where
his master was waiting for me. Without a moment's delay, I bound my
turban round my head, put on my hizam (belt), and followed. At Yakub's
camp, we were told that the Khalifa had gone on to Abu Anga's zariba,
where he was waiting for us. I was beginning to get suspicious; all this
wandering about at night was very unusual. I knew how deceitful these
people were, and I was therefore prepared for any eventuality. Arrived
at Abu Anga's zariba, we were admitted by the sentry. It was an immense
enclosure filled with little shelters made of strips of cotton fixed on
poles, and separated from each other by small dhurra-stalk fences. We
were directed to one of these shelters, and there, by the dim light of a
lantern, I saw Yakub, Abu Anga, Fadl el Maula, Zeki Tummal, and Hajji
Zubeir seated round in a circle talking earnestly; behind them stood
several armed men; but no trace was to be seen of the Khalifa who, I had
been told, had sent for me. I was now almost certain in my own mind that
foul play was intended. The mulazem advanced and spoke to Yakub, and I
was then summoned to enter, and to place myself between Hajji Zubeir and
Fadl el Maula, while opposite to me sat Abu Anga.

"Abdel Kader," began Abu Anga, "you have promised to be faithful to the
Mahdi; and it is your duty to keep your word; it is also your duty to
obey orders, even should you suffer thereby. Is not this so?"

"Certainly," said I, "and you, Abu Anga, if you give me any orders from
the Mahdi or the Khalifa, you will see that I know how to obey them."

"I received orders to make you a prisoner; but I do not know the
reason," said he; and, as he spoke, Hajji Zubeir snatched away my sword,
which, as was customary, I had laid across my knees whilst speaking,
and, handing it to Zeki Tummal, he seized my right arm with both hands.

"I did not come here to fight," said I to Hajji Zubeir; "why should you
seize my arm; but you, Abu Anga, of course you must do as you are
bidden."

What I had often inflicted on others, I was now about to undergo myself.
Abu Anga then stood up, and also Hajji Zubeir and myself, when the
latter let go my arm.

"Go to that tent," said Abu Anga, pointing to a shelter which, in the
dark, I could scarcely see, "and you, Hajji Zubeir and the rest, go with
him."

Accompanied by my gaoler, and some eight others, I went to the tent,
where I was directed to sit on the ground, and chains were now brought
out. Two large iron rings, bound together by a thick iron bar, were
slipped over my feet, and then hammered close; an iron ring was placed
round my neck, and to this was attached a long iron chain with the links
so arranged that I had the greatest difficulty in moving my head. I
endured all this in perfect silence; Hajji Zubeir then left, and I was
told, by the two soldiers who were guarding me, to lie down on the
palm-mat close by.

Left to myself, I had now time to collect my thoughts; and, first of
all, I bitterly regretted not having attempted to escape on my horse to
Khartum; but who could tell if Gordon would have received me? Now, in
accordance with the Mahdi's orders, I was out of harm's way; but what
was to be my fate? Was it to be that of Mohammed Pasha Said and Ali Bey
Sherif? I was not in the habit of worrying about my personal concerns,
and making life miserable. What had Madibbo told me, "Be obedient and
patient; for he who lives long sees much." I had been obedient; it was
now my turn to practise patience; and as for a long life, that was
entirely in God's hands.

About an hour later, during which, as may be imagined, I had not slept,
I saw several mulazemin approaching, carrying lanterns, and, as they
neared the tent, I made out Khalifa Abdullahi walking in the middle. I
stood up and waited for him.

"Abdel Kader," said he, when he saw me standing in front of him, "are
you submitting with resignation to your fate?"

"Since my childhood," I replied quietly, "I have been accustomed to be
obedient; now I must be obedient whether I like it or no."

"Your friendship with Saleh Wad el Mek," said he, "and your
correspondence with Gordon, have cast suspicion on you, and we doubt if
your heart is still inclined to us; that is the reason I have ordered
you to be forcibly directed in the right way."

"I made no secret of my friendship with Saleh Wad el Mek," said I; "he
is a friend of mine, and I believe he is loyal to you. As regards my
correspondence with Gordon, the Mahdi ordered me to write the letters."

"Did he also order you to write what you did?" interrupted the Khalifa.
"I think I wrote what the Mahdi required," I replied; "and no one knows
the contents except myself and the person who received the letters. All
I require, sire, is justice; and I beg that you will pay no heed to
lying intriguers."

I was again alone, and tried to sleep, but was too excited. All sorts of
strange thoughts and ideas coursed through my brain; the iron round my
feet and neck too pained me considerably, and I could get no rest. I
scarcely got a wink of sleep that night; and, at sunrise, Abu Anga came,
followed by servants carrying some dishes of food. Seating himself
beside me on the palm-mat, the food was placed before us; it was quite a
feast, composed of meal, chickens, rice and milk, honey, roast meat and
asida. But when I told him I had absolutely no appetite, he said, "I
think, Abdel Kader, you are afraid; and that is why you do not eat."

"No," I replied, "it is not fear, but want of appetite. However, to
please you, I will try and eat something;" and I managed to swallow a
few mouthfuls, whilst Abu Anga did all he could to show that I was his
honoured guest.

"The Khalifa," said he, "was rather disappointed yesterday, when he saw
you were not humbled; and remarked you were strong-headed, and that, he
supposed, was the reason you were not afraid."

"How could I throw myself at his feet," said I, "and crave his pardon
for a crime I never committed? I am in his hands, and he can do as he
likes with me."

"To-morrow, we shall advance," said Abu Anga, "and draw nearer to
Khartum; we shall press the siege more closely, and then make a sudden
attack. I shall ask the Khalifa to let you stay with me; that will be
less hard for you than going to the common prison."

I thanked him for his kindness, and he then left.

All that day, I was quite alone, but went through my prayers most
carefully in the sight of the bystanders, holding in my hand the rosary
which all good Mohammedans carry; but in reality I was repeating over
and over again the Lord's prayer. In the far distance, near Abu Anga's
tent, I caught sight of my servants and horses and the little baggage I
had. One of my boys also came and told me he had been ordered to attach
himself to Abu Anga.

Early the next morning, the great war-drum sounded the advance; tents
were struck, baggage packed and loaded on camels, and the whole camp was
in movement. The weight of iron on my feet prevented me from walking, so
they brought me a donkey; the long neck-chain--the number of
figure-of-eight links of which I had amused myself in counting, and
which amounted to eighty-three, each about a span long--I wrapped round
and round my body, and in this iron casing I was lifted on to the
donkey, and held in position by a man on each side, otherwise my weight
would have made me overbalance and fall. On the march, several of my old
friends passed, but dared do nothing but pity me in silence. We halted
on some rising ground in the afternoon, and from here I could see the
palm-trees in Khartum; how I longed, as one of its garrison, to join in
its defence!

The order was now given to make a temporary camp in this position, under
Khalifa Abdullahi, whilst the principal Emirs went forward to select the
site for a permanent camp. By this time, the pangs of hunger had seized
me, and I longed for some of the food which Abu Anga had offered me
yesterday; but the latter was now with the Khalifa, and had evidently
forgotten all about us. However, the wife of one of my guards found him
out, and brought him some stale dhurra-bread, which he shared with me.
Next morning, we were again ordered to advance, and halted about an hour
further on, at the spot selected for the main camp. As Abu Anga had
promised, it was now arranged that I should definitely remain under his
charge; a tattered old tent was pitched for me, and around it, close to
the tent ropes, a thorn zariba was made. I was put in here, and the
entrance, which was guarded by soldiers, was blocked by a large
thorn-bush.

The Mahdi now ordered the siege to be vigorously pressed; that evening
several Emirs were sent over to the east bank of the White Nile to
reinforce Wad en Nejumi and Abu Girga; and all the local people were
summoned to join in the investment. Abu Anga and Fadl el Maula were told
off to besiege Omdurman fort, which was situated about five hundred
yards from the river, on the west bank, and was defended by Faragalla
Pasha,--a Sudanese officer who, in the space of one year, had been
promoted from the rank of captain to that of general officer, by Gordon.
Abu Anga succeeded in establishing himself between the fort and the
river; and, by digging deep trenches, he obtained sufficient shelter to
hold this advanced position in spite of the heavy fire from both the
fort and the steamers; one of the latter he succeeded in sinking by
shells fired from a gun he had placed in position; but the crew managed
to escape to Khartum.[13]

During the siege, I was quite neglected; my guards were changed every
day, and my welfare entirely depended on their treatment of me. If they
happened to be slaves who had been captured, I was most carefully
watched, and permitted to have no intercourse with any one; but if they
happened to be old soldiers who knew me, I was not so closely
restrained, and they often did me little services, though they prevented
me from speaking to any one. My food was of the very worst description;
and, Abu Anga being always occupied in the siege, I was left to the
tender mercies of his wives, to whom he had given orders to feed me.

On one occasion, one of my former soldiers happened to be on guard over
me, and I sent him with a message to Abu Anga's chief wife, complaining
that I had been kept without food for two days; and I got back the
answer, "Well, does Abdel Kader think we are going to fatten him up
here, whilst his uncle, Gordon Pasha, does nothing but fire shells all
day at our master, whose life is always in danger through his fault? If
he had made his uncle submit, he would not now be in chains." From her
own standpoint, the woman's views were perfectly justifiable.

Occasionally, some of the Greeks were allowed to come and see me, and
they used to tell me the news.

On the day we arrived here, poor Lupton Bey was also thrown into chains,
as he was suspected of attempting to join Gordon; besides, when his
effects were searched, a document was found, signed by all the officers
of his regular troops, stating that he had been forced to surrender his
province. His wife and little daughter of five years old were sent to
live at the Beit el Mal. The former had been brought up as a Black
servant girl in the house of Rosset, formerly German Consul at Khartum,
and, on his being appointed Governor of Darfur, she had accompanied him
there; on his death at El Fasher, she went with Lupton to Equatoria and
Bahr el Ghazal. By the Khalifa's orders, all Lupton's property was
confiscated; but he allowed his wife and child the services of a Black
female slave to help them in their daily work.

One day, George Calamatino brought me the news that the English army,
under Lord Wolseley, was advancing slowly, and had reached Dongola; but
they had delayed too long in Upper Egypt, and now that Khartum was in
the greatest danger, their advanced guard was no further south than
Dongola: under these circumstances, when could their main body arrive?

Some time after the proclamation of the abandonment of the Sudan had
been made known, Gordon had given the Khartum people to understand that
an English army was coming up to relieve them; and he had thus inspired
the garrison and inhabitants with hope and courage. They had been, so to
speak, given a new lease of life, and all eyes were anxiously turned to
the north, from whence the expected help was to come. Would it come in
time?--that was the question.

These days passed in my tattered tent were full of hopes and fears. It
was not that I was concerned about my own safety, but I could not help
anticipating coming events with the greatest anxiety; how would it all
end, and what was to be my future?

Poor Lupton, in company with some Dervishes, was forced to work a gun
which had been placed in position opposite Tuti Island. He had been
promised that, in recompense for this work, the condition of his wife
and child would be improved, and they would be given better means of
subsistence.

Abdalla Wad Ibrahim also came to me, and said it was the Mahdi's earnest
wish that I should take charge of a gun; and, if I worked it faithfully,
he would give me my liberty. I replied that I was too ill and weak to
work laden with these chains; and, besides, I had no idea how guns were
worked; and that therefore it was impossible for me to buy my liberty at
this price.

"Perhaps," said Wad Ibrahim, "you are unwilling to fire on Gordon, who
is said to be your uncle, and that is your reason for making these
excuses?"

"I have neither uncle nor any other relatives in Khartum," said I; "and
my shells alone would certainly not force Khartum to surrender; however,
my present state of health will not admit of my undertaking this work."

Abdalla rose and left me; and, a few hours later, some of the Khalifa's
mulazemin came and forged on to my ankles another set of iron rings and
a bar,--to humble me I suppose; but as the weight I already bore
prevented me from standing upright, and I was obliged to remain lying
down day and night, an iron more or less did not make much difference.

The next few days passed without anything noteworthy occurring.
Occasionally I heard the crack of the rifles and the booming of the guns
of besieger and besieged; but the Greeks were not allowed to come and
see me now, and I was in complete ignorance of what was going on.

One night about four hours after sunset, when blessed sleep, which makes
one forget all one's troubles, was gradually stealing over me, I was
suddenly roused by the sentry, and ordered to get up at once; as I did
so, I saw one of the Khalifa's mulazemin, who announced that his master
was just coming; and, as he spoke, I saw men approaching carrying
lanterns. What could the Khalifa want of me at such an hour? I asked
myself in great perplexity.

"Abdel Kader," said he, in a kindly tone, as he approached, "sit down;"
and, his servants having stretched out his sheepskin, he sat on it
beside me. "I have here," he continued, "a piece of paper; and I want
you to tell me what is written on it, and so prove to me your fidelity."

"Certainly, if I can do so," said I, taking the paper. It was about half
the size of a cigarette paper, and there was plain writing in black ink
on both sides of it. I at once recognised Gordon's handwriting and
signature; I held the paper close to the lantern, and saw the following
words written in French:--

    I have about 10,000 men; can hold Khartum at the outside till
    the end of January. Elias Pasha wrote to me; he was forced to do
    so. He is old and incapable; I forgive him. Try Hajji Mohammed
    Abu Girga, or sing another song. GORDON.

There was nothing to show for whom it was intended. I was certain there
was no one in the camp who knew French, and that was the reason the
Khalifa had come to me.

"Now, then," said the Khalifa, impatiently, "have you made out what it
means?"

"The note is from Gordon," said I, "and it is written with his own hand,
in French cypher language, which I cannot understand."

"What do you say?" said the Khalifa, now evidently much agitated;
"explain yourself better."

"There are some words written here the sense of which I cannot make
out," said I; "every word has its own special meaning, and can only be
understood by those accustomed to the use of cyphers; if you ask any of
the old officials, they will confirm what I say."

"I was told that the names of Elias Pasha and Hajji Mohammed Abu Girga
are mentioned; is this so?" roared the Khalifa, now thoroughly angry.

"The man who said that told you the truth, and I also can read their
names; but it is impossible for me to understand the reference. Perhaps
the man who told you their names were there can make out the rest of the
letter," said I, somewhat ironically; "besides I can also make out
10,000 in figures; but whether it means soldiers, or something else, it
is quite impossible for me to say."

He now seized the paper from my hand, and stood up.

"Pardon me," said I, "I would with pleasure have proved my fidelity to
you, and have thus regained your gracious favour; but it is out of my
power. I think your clerks understand about cyphers better than I do."

"Even if I do not know what this paper contains," said the Khalifa,
"still Gordon shall fall, and Khartum will be ours;" and then he
departed, leaving me alone with my guards.

Gordon had said in his little note that he could hold Khartum at the
outside till the end of January; we were now nearly at the end of
December. Could the rescuing army possibly arrive in time? But why
should I worry myself with such thoughts? Here am I in chains, and
utterly useless to any one, and nothing I can do can change the course
of things.

The next morning, I had a visit from a Greek, now called Abdullahi, who
had been appointed Emir of the Muslimania (Christians who had become
Moslems.) Without letting him know that the Khalifa had come to me the
previous night, I asked him what was the news, and whether anything was
known of the English expedition. He told me that the advanced guard had
reached Debbeh, and was about to advance to Metemmeh; that the Mahdi
knew all about this, and had ordered all the Barabra and Jaalin to
collect at Metemmeh under Mohammed el Kheir, and await the enemy. He
told me that the siege was drawn more closely round Khartum, and that,
the previous day, the garrison had attempted to make a sortie, but had
been forced back; that Sanjak Mohammed Kafr Jod, the brother of the
imprisoned Saleh Wad el Mek, had been killed, that his head had been cut
off and sent to the Khalifa, who had ordered it to be thrown at the feet
of Saleh, who was gazing at the ground. Recognising instantly his
brother's head, but without the slightest change of countenance, Saleh
said, "Di gizahu, di kismathu" (This is his punishment, this is his
fate); then, turning to the saier (commander of the prison), he said to
him, "Did you mean by this to startle me, or inspire me with fear?" What
nerves and self-control the man must have had!

The next day, one of my guards told me that Mohammed Khaled had sent
reinforcements of men and some ammunition from Darfur to the Mahdi; also
that some of the Emirs of Khalifa Ali Wad Helu's flag had received
orders to leave for Metemmeh, under the command of his brother, Musa Wad
Helu. No doubt there was something in the wind.

It was now the beginning of January, and Gordon had said he could hold
out till the end of the month; so the decisive moment was drawing closer
and closer.

During the next few days, there was very heavy firing between the
Dervishes and Omdurman fort. Faragalla Pasha was doing his utmost; and,
in spite of the small number of his men, he attempted a sortie, but was
driven back. The supplies in the fort were finished, and negotiations
were now going on for its surrender. Faragalla had signalled to Gordon
for instructions; but the latter, being unable to support him, had told
him to capitulate. The entire garrison received the Mahdi's pardon. The
men had nothing but the clothes in which they stood, and their wives and
children were all in Khartum. As they marched out, the Mahdists marched
in, but were almost immediately driven out again by the artillery fire
from Khartum; in the fort itself there were two breech-loading guns, but
their range did not extend as far as the town. The surrender took place
on 15th January, 1885.

Although Omdurman had now fallen, the Mahdi did not send any
reinforcements to the besiegers south and east of Khartum; he well knew
that the number of his followers collected there was quite sufficient
for the purpose. Both he and the garrison of Khartum now looked, with
the most intense anxiety, towards the north from whence the final
decision must be awaited.

Gordon Pasha had sent five steamers to Metemmeh some time ago, under
Khashm el Mus and Abdel Hamid Wad Mohammed, in order to await the
arrival of the English, and bring some of them, with the necessary
supplies, to Khartum as soon as possible. No doubt he was expecting
their arrival with the greatest anxiety. He had staked everything on
this; and no one knew what had become of them.

At the beginning of the month, Gordon had allowed several of the
families to leave Khartum. Up to that time, he could not bear to
forcibly drive them out of the town; and, in consequence, he had been
obliged to make a daily distribution of hundreds of okes of biscuit and
dhurra amongst these destitute people; and for that he had, no doubt,
God's reward, but he thereby ruined himself and his valuable men. Every
one was crying out for bread, and the stores were almost empty! He now
did all he could to induce the people to leave the town. Had he only
done so two or three months earlier, there would have been ample
supplies to last the troops a long time; but Gordon, thinking that help
was coming so soon to him, to the troops, and to the inhabitants, did
not provide for possible detentions. Did he think that it was out of the
question for an English expedition to be delayed?

Six days after the fall of Omdurman, loud weeping and wailing filled our
camp; since I had left Darfur I had not heard anything like it. The
Mahdi's doctrine forbade the display of sorrow and grief for those who
died, or were killed, because they had entered into the joys of
Paradise. Something very unusual must therefore have happened to make
the people dare to transgress the Mahdi's regulations. My guards, who
were old soldiers, were so curious to know the cause that they left me
to make inquiries, and, in a few minutes, brought back the startling
news, that the English advanced guard had met the combined force of
Barabra, Jaalin, Degheim, and Kenana, under Musa Wad Helu at Abu Teleh
(Abu Klea), and had utterly defeated them; thousands had fallen, and the
few who had survived had returned, many of them wounded. The Degheim and
Kenana had been almost annihilated; Musa Wad Helu, and most of the
Emirs, had fallen.

What news!--my heart was literally thumping with joyous excitement.
After all these long years, a crowning victory at last! The Mahdi and
Khalifa at once gave orders that all this noise should cease; but for
hours the weeping and wailing of the women continued. Instructions were
now given to Nur Angara to start off with troops towards Metemmeh; but
what good would this do, even if he had had the will, which he had not,
what could he do with a few troops when thousands and thousands of wild
fanatics had failed? Within the next two or three days, came the news of
other defeats at Abu Kru and Kubba (Gubat), and of the erection of a
fort on the Nile close to Metemmeh. The Mahdi and his principal Emirs
now held a consultation. All the wonderful victories they had gained up
to the present were at stake; for those besieging Khartum were terrified
and had retired. It was now the question of a few days only, and the
Mahdi was done. They must risk everything. Consequently, orders were
sent out to the besiegers to collect and make all preparations. Why did
the long expected steamers with the English troops not come? Did their
commanders not know Khartum, and the lives of all in it, were hanging by
a thread? In vain did I, and thousands of others, wait for the shrill
whistle of the steamer, and for the booming of the guns announcing that
the English had arrived, and were passing the entrenchments made by the
Dervishes to oppose them. Yes, in vain! The delay was inexplicable; what
could it mean? Had new difficulties arisen?

It was now Sunday, the 25th of January,--a day I shall never forget as
long as I live. That evening, when it was dark, the Mahdi and his
Khalifas crossed over in a boat to where their warriors were all
collected ready for the fight. It was known during the day that Khartum
would be attacked the next morning; and the Mahdi had now gone to brace
up his followers for the fray by preaching to them the glories of Jehad,
and urging them to fight till death. Pray Heaven Gordon may have got the
news, and made his preparations to resist in time!

On this occasion, the Mahdi and his Khalifas had most strictly enjoined
their followers to restrain their feelings, and receive the last
injunctions in silence, instead of with the usual shouts and
acclamations, which might awaken the suspicions of the exhausted and
hungry garrison. His solemn harangue over, the Mahdi recrossed, and
returned to the camp at dawn, leaving with the storming party only
Khalifa Sherif, who had begged to be allowed to join in the holy battle.

That night was for me the most excitingly anxious one in my life. If
only the attack were repulsed, Khartum would be saved; otherwise, all
would be lost. Utterly exhausted, I was just dropping off to sleep at
early dawn, when I was startled by the deafening discharge of thousands
of rifles and guns; this lasted for a few minutes, then only occasional
rifle-shots were heard, and now all was quiet again. It was scarcely
light, and I could barely distinguish objects. Could this possibly be
the great attack on Khartum? A wild discharge of fire-arms and cannon,
and in a few minutes complete stillness?

The sun was now rising red over the horizon; what would this day bring
forth? Excited and agitated, I awaited the result with intense
impatience. Soon shouts of rejoicing and victory were heard in the
distance; and my guards ran off to find out the news. In a few minutes,
they were back again, excitedly relating how Khartum had been taken by
storm, and was now in the hands of the Mahdists. Was it possible the
news was false? I crawled out of my tent, and scanned the camp; a great
crowd had collected before the quarters of the Mahdi and Khalifa, which
were not far off; then there was a movement in the direction of my tent;
and I could see plainly they were coming towards me. In front, marched
three Black soldiers; one named Shatta, formerly belonging to Ahmed Bey
Dafalla's slave body-guard, carried in his hands a bloody cloth in which
something was wrapped up, and behind him followed a crowd of people
weeping. The slaves had now approached my tent, and stood before me with
insulting gestures; Shatta undid the cloth and showed me the head of
General Gordon!

The blood rushed to my head, and my heart seemed to stop beating; but,
with a tremendous effort of self-control, I gazed silently at this
ghastly spectacle. His blue eyes were half-opened; the mouth was
perfectly natural; the hair of his head, and his short whiskers, were
almost quite white.

"Is not this the head of your uncle the unbeliever?" said Shatta,
holding the head up before me.

"What of it?" said I, quietly. "A brave soldier who fell at his post;
happy is he to have fallen; his sufferings are over."

[Illustration: Bringing Gordon's Head to Slatin.]

"Ha, ha!" said Shatta, "so you still praise the unbeliever; but you will
soon see the result;" and, leaving me, he went off to the Mahdi, bearing
his terrible token of victory; behind him followed the crowd, still
weeping.

I re-entered my tent. I was now utterly broken-hearted: Khartum fallen,
and Gordon dead! And this was the end of the brave soldier who had
fallen at his post,--the end of a man whose courage and utter disregard
of fear were remarkable, and whose personal characteristics had given
him a celebrity in the world which was quite exceptional.

Of what use was the English army now? How fatal had been the delay at
Metemmeh! The English advanced guard had reached Gubat on the Nile, on
the 20th of January, at 10 A. M.; on the 21st, Gordon's four steamers
had arrived. Then why did they not send some Englishmen on board, no
matter how few, and despatch them instantly to Khartum? If they could
only have been seen in the town, the garrison would have taken fresh
hope, and would have fought tooth and nail against the enemy; whilst the
inhabitants, who had lost all confidence in Gordon's promises, would
have joined most heartily in resisting the Dervish attack, knowing that
the relief expedition was now certain to reach them. Gordon, of course,
had done his utmost to hold the town: he had announced that an English
army was coming; he had made a paper currency; had distributed
decorations and honours almost daily, in order to keep up the hearts of
the garrison; and, as the position had become more desperate, he had
made almost superhuman efforts to induce the troops to hold out; but
despair had taken possession of them. What was the use of all these
decorations now; what good were all their ranks and honours? And as for
the paper money, perhaps there were one or two still hopeful people who
would buy a pound note for a couple of piastres,[14] on the chance that,
by some stroke of luck, the Government might yet be victorious; but
gradually even these slender hopes disappeared. Gordon's promises were
no longer credited; if but one steamer with a few English officers had
reached the town, to bring the news that they had won a victory, and had
reached the Nile, the troops and inhabitants would have doubted no
longer, and they would have been convinced that Gordon's words were
true. An English officer would at once have noticed that part of the
lines which had been damaged by the overflow of the White Nile, and
could have ordered its repair. But what could Gordon do single-handed,
and without the assistance of any European officers; it was impossible
for him to look to everything, nor had he the means of seeing that his
orders were carried out to his satisfaction. How was it possible for a
commander who could not give his troops food, to expect these starving
men to carry out with precision and energy the instructions he issued?

On the unfortunate night of the 25th of January, Gordon was told that
the Mahdists had decided to make an attack; and he had issued his orders
accordingly. Perhaps he himself doubted if they would attack so early in
the morning. At the time the Mahdi was crossing the river, Gordon, to
stimulate his followers, had made a display of fireworks in the town;
various coloured rockets were fired, and the band played, with the
object of reviving the flagging spirits of the famished garrison. The
display was over, the music had ceased, and Khartum was asleep, whilst
the enemy crept cautiously and silently forward to the attack. They knew
all the weak and strong points of the lines of defence; they knew also
that the regulars were stationed at the strong points, and that the
broken-down parapet and tumbled-in ditch near the White Nile were weakly
defended by the feeble inhabitants. This particular part of the lines
was sadly out of repair; it had never been actually completed, and, when
damaged by the water, no steps had been taken to re-make it. Every day
the Nile became lower, and every day exposed a broader strip of
undefended wet mud, which the hungry and hopeless people merely made a
show of defending. It was opposite to this open space that, at early
dawn, the bulk of the attacking force had collected, whilst the other
portion of the Mahdist army faced the main position. At a given signal,
the attack began. Those holding the White Nile flank, after firing a few
shots, fled precipitately; and, while the troops were occupied in
repelling the storming parties in their immediate front, thousands and
thousands of wild Arabs, dashing through the mud and water which was
only up to their knees, poured into the town, and, to their dismay, the
defenders on the lines found themselves attacked from the rear. Very
slight resistance was made, and most of the troops laid down their arms.
Numbers of the Egyptians were massacred; but, of the Blacks, few were
killed, whilst the enemy's losses within the lines did not exceed eighty
to one hundred men. Soon afterwards, the gates were opened by the
Dervishes, and the troops were permitted to march out to the Mahdist
camp.

Once the line of the White Nile was crossed, the great mass of the enemy
rushed towards the town. "Lil Saraya! lil Kenisa!" (To the Palace! to
the Church!) was the cry; for it was here they expected to find the
treasure and Gordon, who had so long defended the city against them, and
had up to that day defied all their efforts. Amongst the leaders in the
attack on the Palace were the followers of Makin Wad en Nur, who was
afterwards killed at the battle of Toski, and belonged to the Arakin
tribe; Makin's brother Abdalla Wad en Nur, their beloved leader, had
been killed during the siege, and they were now seeking to avenge his
death. Many of Abu Girga's men were also forward in the rush to the
Palace; they wanted to wipe out the defeat they had suffered when Gordon
had driven them out of Burri. The Palace servants who lived in the
basement were instantly massacred; and Gordon himself, standing on the
top of the steps leading to the divan, awaited the approach of the
Arabs. Taking no notice of his question, "Where is your master the
Mahdi?" the first man up the steps plunged his huge spear into his body;
he fell forward on his face, without uttering a word. His murderers
dragged him down the steps to the Palace entrance; and here his head
was cut off, and at once sent over to the Mahdi at Omdurman, whilst his
body was left to the mercy of those wild fanatics. Thousands of these
inhuman creatures pressed forward merely to stain their swords and
spears with his blood; and soon all that remained was a heap of mangled
flesh. For a long time, stains of blood marked the spot where this
atrocity took place; and the steps, from top to bottom, for weeks bore
the same sad traces, until they were at last washed off when the Khalifa
decided to make the Palace an abode for his former and his future wives.

When Gordon's head was brought to the Mahdi, he remarked he would have
been better pleased had they taken him alive; for it was his intention
to convert him, and then hand him over to the English Government in
exchange for Ahmed Arabi Pasha, as he had hoped that the latter would
have been of assistance to him in helping him to conquer Egypt. My own
opinion, however, is that this regret on the part of the Mahdi was
merely assumed; for had he expressed any wish that Gordon's life should
be spared, no one would have dared to disobey his orders.

Gordon had done his utmost to save the lives of the Europeans who were
with him. Colonel Stewart, with some of the Consuls and many of the
Europeans, he had allowed to go to Dongola; but unfortunately the
incapable and disaffected crew of their steamer, the "Abbas," had run
her on to a rock in the cataracts, and had thus given up him and his
companions to the treacherous death which had been prepared for them. On
the pretext that the Greeks were good men on boats, Gordon had offered
them a steamer, on which it was arranged they should make a visit of
inspection on the White Nile, thus intending to give them an opportunity
to escape south to join Emin Pasha; but they had refused to accept.
Being much concerned as to their safety, Gordon now made another
proposal: he ordered all roads leading towards the Blue Nile to be
placed out of bounds after ten o'clock at night; and he charged the
Greeks with watching them, so that they might have a chance of escaping
to a steamer moored close by, in which it was arranged they should
escape; but, owing to a disagreement between themselves as to the
details of the plan, it fell through. I have little doubt in my own mind
that these Greeks did not really wish to leave the town. In their own
homes and in Egypt most of them had been very poor, and had held merely
subordinate positions; but here in the Sudan many had made their
fortunes, and were therefore by no means anxious to quit a country from
which they had reaped so great advantages.

Gordon seemed anxious about the safety of every one but himself. Why did
he neglect to make a redoubt, or keep within the fortifications, the
central point of which might well have been the Palace? From a military
point of view I think this is a fair criticism; but probably Gordon did
not do so, lest he should be suspected of being concerned for his own
safety; and it was probably a similar idea which influenced him in his
decision not to have a strong guard at the Palace. He might well have
employed a company of soldiers for this purpose; and who would have
thought of questioning the advantage of protecting himself? With a guard
of this strength, he could easily have reached the steamer "Ismaïlia,"
which was lying close to the Palace, scarcely three hundred yards from
the gate. Fagarli, the captain, saw the enemy rushing to the Palace. In
vain he waited for Gordon; and it was only when the latter was killed,
and he saw the Dervishes making for his boat, that he steamed off into
mid-stream, and moved backwards and forwards along the front of the town
until he received a message from the Mahdi offering him pardon. As his
wife and family and some of his crew were in the city, he accepted the
offer and landed; but how sadly had he been deluded. Rushing to his
home, he found his son--a boy of ten years old--lying dead on the
doorstep, whilst his wife, in her agony, had thrown herself on her
child's body, and lay pierced with several lances.

The cruelties and atrocities perpetrated in the terrible massacre which
followed Gordon's death are beyond description. Male and female slaves,
and young, good-looking women of the free tribes, alone were spared; and
if some others succeeded in escaping, they had only to thank a lucky
chance which saved them from the merciless bloodshed of that awful day.
Not a few resolved to put an end to their own lives; amongst these was
Mohammed Pasha Hussein, the head of the Finance, who, standing beside
the dead bodies of his only daughter and her husband, was urged by some
friends to fly with them, and let them save him; but he refused. They
tried to take him by force; but, in a loud voice, he heaped curses on
the Mahdi and his followers, and some fanatics passing by soon
despatched him. Several people were killed by their former servants and
slaves, who, having previously joined the enemy, now acted as guides to
the wild hordes thirsting for blood, plunder, and rapine.

Fathalla Gehami, a wealthy Syrian (whose wife was the daughter of the
wholesale French dealer Contarini, and to whom, on her father's death
some years ago, I had given a lodging with her little child in my
house), had buried all his money in a corner of his house, with the
assistance of his servant, a Dongola boy whom he had brought up from
quite a child. None but he, his wife Lisa, and his boy knew the secret
hiding-place; and when the situation became so serious in the town, he
called up the lad and, in his wife's presence, said to him, "Mohammed, I
have taken care of you since you were quite a child, and I trust you;
you know where the money is hidden. Our condition is gradually growing
worse. You have relatives with the Mahdi; you can go to them, and if the
Government is victorious you can return to me without fear of
punishment. But should the Mahdi conquer, then you can repay me for my
kindness to you." Obedient to his master's wishes, the boy left the
town, and, on the morning of the attack, he, with some of his relatives,
rushed to his employer's house. "Open, open!" he shouted at the top of
his voice; "I am your child, your servant Mohammed." Fathalla Gehami
joyfully opened the great iron gate which had been so strengthened and
barred that it defied entry; and in an instant his faithless servant had
plunged his spear into his body. Dashing with his friends over his
master's prostrate form, he made for the hiding-place of the money, and
instantly seized it; on his way out of the house, he rushed at
Fathalla's wife, who had seen the whole proceedings of this ungrateful
young bloodhound, and would have killed her too, but she threw herself
on the body of her husband, who was in his death-agony; and Mohammed's
friends with difficulty drew him off before he had time to plunge his
knife into the poor woman who had been his kind protectress for so many
years.

The Greek Consul Leontides was called out of his house by a crowd of
fanatics who had been worked up into a state of excitement by a man who
owed him money; and, on his appearance, he was instantly killed. Consul
Hansal was murdered by one of his own kavasses, who afterwards tied his
hands together, dragged the body out of the house, poured spirits over
it, heaped on it all the tobacco he could find, set it on fire, and,
when it was reduced to cinders, threw the remains into the river. Butros
Bulos, a clerk in the finance office, was perhaps the only man who came
well out of that awful day. He lived in a detached house, and had
collected round him his relatives; for some time they defended
themselves most successfully against all comers, and killed a number of
them. When summoned at last to surrender, he said he would only do so if
he were promised the Mahdi's pardon, and a guarantee that he should not
be separated from his family; as it was impossible to turn him out
without bringing up guns to bombard the house, Khalifa Sherif gave him
the pardon he required, which, curiously enough, was subsequently
ratified by the Mahdi.

The Shaigia post on Tuti Island surrendered after Khartum had fallen;
and the garrison were brought across to Omdurman in boats.

One could fill a volume with the details of the terrible atrocities
committed on that memorable day; yet I doubt if the fate of the
survivors was very much better. When all the houses were occupied, the
search for treasure began, and no excuse or denial was accepted; whoever
was suspected of having concealed money (and the majority of the
inhabitants had done so) was tortured until the secret was disclosed, or
until he succeeded in convincing his tormentors that he had nothing.
There was no sparing of the lash; the unfortunate people were flogged
until their flesh hung down in shreds from their bodies. Another torture
was to tie men up by their thumbs to a beam, and leave them dangling in
the air till they became unconscious; or two small pliant slips of
bamboo were tied horizontally to their temples, and the two ends, before
and behind, being joined together and twisted as tightly as possible,
were struck with vibrating sticks which produced agony inexpressible.
Even women of an advanced age were tormented in this way; and the
most sensitive parts of their bodies were subjected to a species of
torture which it is impossible for me to describe here. Suffice it to
say that the most appalling methods were resorted to in order to
discover hidden treasure. Young women and girls only were exempted from
these abominable tortures, for no other reason than that such atrocities
might interfere in some manner with the object for which they had been
reserved. All such were put aside for the harem of the Mahdi, who, on
the actual day of the conquest, made his selections, and turned over the
rejected ones to his Khalifas and principal Emirs. This picking and
choosing continued for weeks together, until the households of these
libidinous and inhuman scoundrels were stocked to overflowing with all
the unfortunate youth and beauty of the fallen city.

The next day, a general amnesty was given to all, with the exception of
the Shaigia, who were still considered outlaws; but, in spite of this,
murders and atrocities continued for many days subsequent to the fall of
Khartum.

The Emir Abu Girga made every effort to discover the hiding-place of the
sons of Saleh Wad el Mek; but for three days he was unsuccessful. They
were at last found, brought before him, and instantly beheaded. It
behoved also all Egyptians to look to themselves during these days of
massacre; for, if met alone by these fanatics, they were mercilessly
slaughtered. A merchant was making inquiries one day about the bazaar
prices in Omdurman, and asked what were at present the cheapest articles
and the greatest drug in the market; the man questioned, being evidently
a wag, answered: "The yellow-skinned Egyptian, the Shaigia, and the
dog," which, being considered an impure animal, was always killed when
found. This saying obtained great notoriety amongst the Dervishes, and
gives a very fair idea of the estimation in which they held the former
ruling class.

The plunder taken in Khartum was carried off to the Beit el Mal; but of
course large quantities were made away with. The principal houses were
distributed amongst the Emirs; and, on the day after the town fell, the
Mahdi and Khalifa Abdullahi crossed over from Omdurman in the steamer
"Ismaïlia" to view the scene of their bloody victory and massacre;
without a sign of pity or regret, they occupied the houses selected for
them, and, addressing their followers, described the disaster which had
overtaken Khartum as the just judgment of Heaven on the godless
inhabitants of the city, who had repeatedly rejected the Mahdi's summons
to them to surrender and become his faithful followers in the true
religion.

The first few days were spent in the wildest debauchery and excesses;
and it was not until the Mahdi and his followers had to some extent
satiated their vicious passions, that they turned their attention to the
dangers which threatened them from without. To oppose the English
expedition, the renowned Emir Abderrahman Wad Nejumi was ordered to
collect a large force and proceed forthwith to Metemmeh, to drive out
the infidels, who were known to have reached the Nile near this town.

On Wednesday morning, two days after Khartum had fallen, at about eleven
o'clock, the thunder of guns and the sharp crack of rifles were heard
in the direction of the north end of Tuti Island; and soon two steamers
came in view,--these were the "Telahawia" and "Bordein," carrying Sir
Charles Wilson and some English officers and men who had come up to
assist General Gordon. Sanjak Kashm el Mus and Abdel Hamid Mohammed,
whom Gordon had despatched in command of the Shaigias, were also on
board; they had already heard of Gordon's death, and of the cruel fate
which had overtaken the town and its inhabitants. Although those on the
steamer had little doubt of the accuracy of the sad news, they wished to
see with their own eyes, and reached a point midway between Tuti Island
and the left bank of the White Nile; here they were heavily fired on by
the Dervishes from an entrenched position, situated northeast of
Omdurman Fort, and having seen Khartum in the distance, and been
convinced, they turned about and steamed away.

I subsequently heard from some of the crew of these steamers, that both
they and the Englishmen on board were deeply affected by the fall of the
city; they now knew that the entire Sudan was in the Mahdi's hands. It
was the talk on board, they said, that the English expedition had only
come up to save Gordon; and, now that he was killed, the object of the
expedition had failed, and they naturally concluded that it would retire
to Dongola, and that they would be called upon to accompany it.
Consequently the chief pilot of the "Telahawia" and the captain Abdel
Hamid agreed together to run the steamer on to a rock, and then escape
during the night. This plan was successfully carried out; and the
steamer stuck so hard and fast that the cargo had to be at once
transferred to the "Bordein." During the confusion, these two
conspirators escaped; and, through the intermediary of their friends,
they succeeded in securing the Mahdi's pardon, and returned subsequently
to Khartum. Here they were well received and publicly commended by the
Mahdi for having inflicted loss on their enemies, the British; Abdel
Hamid, in spite of being a hated Shaigia, and a relative of Saleh Wad
el Mek, was presented by the Mahdi with his own jibba, as a mark of
honour, and, moreover, several of his female relatives who, after the
sack of the town, had been distributed amongst the Emirs, were given
back to him.

Meanwhile, the "Bordein," on its return journey towards Metemmeh, struck
on a sand-bank, and, being heavily laden, could not be floated off. Sir
Charles Wilson's position was now very critical; with his small force he
could not have attempted to land on the west bank and attack the enemy,
which was entrenched at Wad Habeshi, between him and the British camp at
Gubat. It is true that the courage of this body of Dervishes had been
considerably shaken by the defeat at Abu Klea; but the fall of Khartum,
and the knowledge that Wad en Nejumi with a large force was advancing
north to their support, now transformed them into a formidable enemy. A
third steamer, the "Safia," was still at Gubat. Sir Charles Wilson
therefore sent an officer down stream in a small boat to ask for help;
the appeal was promptly responded to, the "Safia" starting, without
delay, to the relief of the "Bordein." The enemy hearing of this, at
once threw up entrenchments to oppose its progress, and, on its
approach, poured on the unfortunate steamer a perfect hail of rifle and
cannon shot; but those on board, determined to relieve their comrades in
distress, fought most bravely until a shot, penetrating the boiler,
disabled the steamer and placed it in the greatest danger. Undismayed,
however, the commander set to work, under a heavy fire, to repair the
damage; the work was continued during the night, and early the next
morning the "Safia" was able to continue her running fight with the
Dervishes, eventually succeeding in silencing the guns, and killing the
principal Emir, Ahmed Wad Faid, and a considerable number of subordinate
Emirs and men. The passage was forced; and Sir Charles Wilson and his
men relieved.

This daring exploit, which resulted in the rescue of the little band of
Englishmen who had ventured to Khartum, also had a very important,
though indirect, effect on the subsequent fate of the small British
column near Metemmeh. The advance of Nejumi, which, under any
circumstances, was not rapid, owing to the difficulty of collecting the
men, was still further delayed by the news of the death of Ahmed Wad
Faid, and the defeat of the strong body of Dervishes at Wad Habeshi by
one steamer. I was informed that on hearing of the success of the
"Safia" (whose able commander I learnt on my return to Egypt was Lord
Charles Beresford), Nejumi addressed his men, and pointed out to them,
that if the English advanced with the intention of taking the Sudan,
they must of course oppose them; but if, on the other hand, they retired
towards Dongola, then he and his men would be able to occupy the country
they had abandoned without the risk of further fighting. And it was this
latter course which he eventually took. Delaying his advance, he reached
Metemmeh only after the British had retired from Gubat; and, although he
pursued them as far as Abu Klea, he hesitated somewhat to attack unless
quite assured of success.

It was only when the Mahdi learnt of the final retirement of the British
advanced guard that he was convinced the Sudan had at last been
completely won; and now his delight knew no bounds. He announced the
news in the mosque and drew a striking picture of the flight of the
unbelievers, embellishing it further by a revelation from the Prophet to
the effect that their water-skins had all been pierced, through Divine
intervention, and that all those who had taken part in the expedition
had died of thirst.

On the fifth day after the fall of Khartum, a small band of soldiers
suddenly appeared in my tattered tent; and, placing me, still shackled
and bound, on a donkey, they carried me off to the general prison, where
they hammered on to my ankles a third and exceptionally heavy iron bar
and rings (nicknamed the Hajji Fatma); it weighed about eighteen pounds,
and was only put on those who were considered exceptionally obstinate or
dangerous prisoners. I was quite ignorant of the reasons which caused me
to fall still lower in the Khalifa's disfavour; but I found out later
that Gordon, when he had ascertained from my letters to him that the
Mahdist force advancing on Khartum was not a strong one, that many of
the Mahdi's adherents were discontented, and that there was considerable
scarcity of ammunition, had written to this effect to several of the
principal officers on the lines; one of his letters containing this
information was discovered in the loot handed over to Ahmed Wad Suleiman
in the Beit el Mal, by whom it had been passed to the Mahdi and Khalifa.
Thus were their suspicions regarding my behaviour confirmed, and my
schemes to escape and join Gordon laid bare.

I was deposited in one corner of the immense zariba, where I was ordered
to stay, and to hold no converse with any one without permission, on
pain of instant flogging. At sunset, I, a number of slaves who were
under sentence for having murdered their masters, and other gentlemen of
this description were bound together by a long chain passing round our
feet and fastened to the trunk of a tree; and at sunrise the next
morning, we were unfastened, and I was sent back to my corner again. I
could just see Lupton, in the distance, in another corner of the
enclosure. He had been in here for some time, and had become used to it;
he had permission to speak to others, but was under strict orders of the
saier, or gaoler, not, on any account, to speak to me. On the day that I
had been brought to the prison, Saleh Wad el Mek had been discharged;
his brother, sons, and almost all his relatives had been killed, and he
was now allowed to go and search for the survivors. As regards food, I
now fared considerably worse; I had, in this respect, fallen out of the
frying pan into the fire. I used to complain of being occasionally
hungry; but now I received only uncooked dhurra, getting the same share
as the slaves, and a very small share it was. Fortunately, the wife of
one of my warders, a Darfur woman, took pity upon me, and used to take
the corn away, boil it, and bring it back to me; but she was not allowed
to bring me any other food, as her husband feared the principal gaoler
might find out, and he, in his turn, was afraid of incurring the
Khalifa's displeasure. I lay on the bare ground, with a stone for my
pillow, the hardness of which gave me a continual headache; but, one day
whilst we were being driven to the river--one hundred and fifty yards
distant--to wash, I picked up the lining of a donkey saddle, which the
owner had evidently thrown away as old and useless; and, hiding it under
my arm, I bore it off in triumph, and that night I slept like a king on
his pillow of down.

Gradually, my position improved somewhat. The principal gaoler, who was
not really disinclined towards me, allowed me to converse occasionally
with the other prisoners, and removed my lightest foot-irons; but the
Hajji Fatma and her sister still remained, and I cannot say this pair of
worthies conduced much to my personal comfort during those long and
weary months of imprisonment.

One day, a Black woman came in with her child--a nice little girl--to
visit her poor husband and the child's father, Lupton. The poor little
thing wept bitterly, for, young as she was, she was old enough to
understand the miserable plight of her father, who, before they left,
sent them to say a few words to me. The poor woman looked at me for a
few moments, and then, taking my hand, wept aloud. I remembered I had
often seen her before; and, between her sobs, she reminded me that she
had come to Khartum as a young girl, and had been brought up in
Frederick Rosset's house, where, during my first journey to the Sudan, I
had stayed for some weeks. Poor Zenoba! she reminded me of many little
incidents which had happened in the old days; and, as she related them,
she often broke down, comparing her former happiness with her present
misery. I tried to console her, urging her to keep up hope, and that
perhaps everything would end well. "Besides," I said, "it was never
intended that human beings should always live well and comfortably."
Little Fatma, whom we called Fanny, flung herself into my arms, calling
me, ammi (my uncle); and it seemed as if her heart told her
instinctively that, amongst all this crowd, I was next to her father in
her affections. I then begged the poor woman to leave me, as I feared
taking advantage of the gaoler's patience.

At this time, there was some difficulty in supplying food to the Black
soldiers under Abu Anga, whose number had been further increased by the
Khartum garrison. As there was no immediate fear of any movement on the
part of the Government towards Khartum, it was decided to despatch Abu
Anga to Southern Kordofan on a punitive expedition against the Nubas,
and to procure slaves and send them to Omdurman. Shortly after the fall
of Khartum, the Mahdi had moved his camp north; and the fort known as
Tabia Ragheb Bey, and the ground in the vicinity, had been told off for
Abu Anga's camp. When he was ordered off, and his place taken by his
brother, Fadl el Maula, all my servants, male and female, left with him;
and, although the latter were not permitted to visit me, I felt that,
with Abu Anga's departure, yet another link was severed.

I now received news of the other servants I had left behind at El
Fasher. On my arrival at Rahad, I had told the Khalifa I had left behind
two horses, which were almost the best in Darfur, and which I hinted he
might have if he wished; but, it being summer, and as they would
probably have suffered from the long and hot journey, I had not brought
them with me. Subsequently, I had requested him to give orders that not
only the horses, but also my male and female servants who had been left
behind, should also be sent on. He consequently had written to Mohammed
Khaled to this effect; but, on the day on which I had been made a
prisoner, he had written to Sayed Mahmud of El Obeid to seize my people
as soon as they came from Darfur, but to send on the two horses. The
latter had now arrived in Omdurman; and the soldier who had been in
charge came to tell me that the Khalifa was much pleased with them,
having taken one for himself and given the other to his brother Yakub.

A few days later, there was considerable commotion amongst the warders;
and the saier told me privately that the Khalifa was coming to visit the
prison. I asked him to advise me how I should behave; and he recommended
me to answer all questions promptly, on no account to make any
complaints, and to remain submissively in my corner. About midday, the
Khalifa arrived, accompanied by his brothers and mulazemin, and began to
walk round and view these victims of his justice. It seemed that the
saier had given the same advice to all the prisoners that he had given
to me, for they all behaved quietly; some were ordered to have their
chains removed, and to be discharged. At length, the Khalifa approached
my corner, and, with a friendly nod, said, "Abdel Kader, enta tayeb?"
(Abdel Kader, are you well?). To which I replied, "Ana tayeb, Sidi" (I
am well, sire); and with that he moved on. Yunes Wad Dekeim, the present
Emir of Dongola, and a near relative of the Khalifa, pressed my hand,
and whispered, "Keep up your spirits; don't be downhearted; everything
will come right."

From that day my condition distinctly improved. Zenoba, the mother of
Fanny, was allowed every now and then to send me a little food. I was
also allowed to spend the day with a former head-Sheikh of the Hawara
Arabs, who was suspected of having been friendly with the Turks, and had
been thrown into chains; as our hatred for the Mahdists was mutual, we
spent most of our time in talking about them, and criticising their
rules and ordinances. Sheikh Mohammed Wad et Taka, for such was his
name, was fed by his elderly wife, who, for his sake, had remained in
Omdurman, and used to bring us meals. She may have had some good
qualities, but she was a veritable Xantippe who by her sharp tongue made
bitter every mouthful her husband swallowed. Carrying a large dish of
baked dhurra-bread and some mulakh (a sort of sauce made with milk and
other ingredients), she would place it before us, and then, sitting on
the ground beside us, she would begin the battle. "Yes, indeed," she
would say, "old women are quite good enough to cook, and do all the hard
work; but when men have their freedom, they can do as they like; and
then they always turn their eyes to the young and pretty girls." The
Sheikh had the fortune, or rather the temporary misfortune, of having
two young wives as well as this old one; but they stayed in the country
with the herds; and this fact greatly annoyed the old lady, who
exercised her ingenuity in making these sallies against her good man,
who, famished by hunger, silently consumed the food she had prepared for
him. She frequently related some piquant family details in which her
husband's conduct in relation to herself, as compared with his more
youthful helpmeets, was invariably open to severe criticism. I used to
greatly enjoy these skirmishes, and generally took upon myself the task
of mediator, telling her that when she was away, her husband had nothing
but good words for her. This used to appease her; and she would affirm
that she was doing her utmost to alleviate our condition. I thoroughly
appreciated how valuable she was to me, and how her homely meals
lessened my long hours of enforced fasting. All my efforts were
therefore directed to pacifying her husband, who, goaded by her sharp
tongue, would heap curses on her devoted head. His nature was very
changeable: when he was hungry, and saw his old wife coming along
carrying his food, no words of praise were sufficient for her; but once
satisfied, and stung to the quick by her sarcasm, he would heap insults
on her, and some such expressions as, "You who neither fear God nor man,
leave me, and let me starve. Some women, as they grow old, instead of
becoming more intelligent, gradually get silly; this is the case with
you, I think you are possessed of the devil. Get away, and never come
near me again; I never want to see you more." Then off she would go; but
the next day, when he was famished, he would long to have his old wife
back again. Not the least alarmed, she would almost invariably return
with her dish full of food; he would be pacified, eat a hearty meal, and
then the insults would begin again.

Thus the days slowly passed away. Small-pox had broken out in Omdurman,
and every day the disease swept off hundreds,--indeed, whole families
disappeared; and I believe that the loss from this disease was greater
than that suffered in many battles. Curiously enough, almost all the
nomad Arabs were attacked; and several of our own warders went down, and
not a few of them died. We prisoners, however, entirely escaped; and,
during the whole period of my imprisonment, I do not recollect having
seen one of us unfortunates attacked, though most of us were much
alarmed. Perhaps God in His mercy thought our punishment already more
than we could bear, and spared us a further visitation.

I had now many opportunities of talking to Lupton, who daily grew more
and more impatient; indeed, so furious was he at times, that I used to
get alarmed, for he would complain most bitterly, and in a loud tone, of
our miserable treatment. I did all in my power to pacify him; but the
wretched life we were living had affected him to such a degree that I
seriously feared for his health. Through constantly speaking to him, I
succeeded to some extent in quieting him; but, although scarcely thirty
years of age, the hair of his head and beard had, during our
imprisonment, grown almost white. Nature, however, had treated me more
kindly. I submitted to my fate with a better grace; and the thoroughly
practical lesson I had received from my old friend Madibbo, entirely
suited my character. I was still young; and, except for occasional
slight ailments, I was endowed with a strong and healthy constitution.
My fate was a cruel one it is true; but I felt I could gather from it
many a useful experience. I kept on hoping against hope, that, sooner or
later, I should return to the civilised world, though, when I thought
over my chances of escape, the time seemed very far away.

In order to occupy the prisoners, the saier employed them in building a
square house for their own habitation; they were therefore ordered to
fetch stones which were found near the river; and Lupton and I were the
only prisoners who were permitted to pass the day without work. Every
now and then, however, we used to accompany them to the place where
they got the stones; but my heavy ankle-irons, and my long neck-chain,
impeded my progress so much when walking, that I preferred to act as the
architect of the building, which now rapidly advanced towards
completion. The walls were very thick, and about thirty feet square,
and, in the centre, a pillar was erected which served as a support to
the crossbeams.

This house was intended for the incarceration of the most dangerous
prisoners; and the wood required for the roofing was brought from the
now ruined houses of Khartum.

It was about this time that an old friend of mine named Esh Sheikh, a
relative of Ismail Wad Shaggar el Kheiri, and who was in the Mahdi's
favour, informed me confidentially that both the Mahdi and the Khalifa
were friendly-minded towards myself and Lupton, and that in a few days
we should probably be liberated. He added that should the Khalifa speak
to me, I should not humble myself very much, but merely be careful not
to oppose anything he said; then, recommending me to God, he went away.
I instantly went off to share this good news with Lupton, who at that
time happened to be in one of his most dangerous moods; but I begged him
to believe that it was true, and to do nothing which might compromise
matters.

A few days later, it was rumoured that the Khalifa was coming. I had
carefully prepared my speech, and Lupton had done the same; but it was
more than likely he would speak to me first. At length the critical
moment came: the Khalifa, entering the prisoners' yard, instead of, as
was his usual custom, sending for the prisoners one by one, ordered an
angareb to be brought and placed in the shade; he then directed all the
prisoners to be led out, and to sit down before him in a semi-circle. He
spoke to several, set a few free who had been imprisoned by his own
personal orders, and promised others, who complained against the
sentences pronounced by the Kadi, to inquire into their cases; of Lupton
and myself, however, he appeared to have taken no notice. Lupton
glanced at me, and shook his head; but I put my finger to my lips to
warn him against doing anything foolish. "Have I anything else to do?"
asked the Khalifa of the saier who was standing behind his angareb.
"Sire! I am at your service," replied the head gaoler; and the Khalifa
sat down again. He now turned his eyes on me, and repeated the same
words he had used on the previous occasion. "Abdel Kader," said he, "are
you well?" "Sire," said I, "if you will allow me to speak, I shall tell
you of my condition." He was then sitting at his ease, and he gave me
the required permission.

"Master," I began, "I belong to a foreign tribe; I came to you seeking
protection, and you gave it to me. It is natural for man to err, and to
sin against God and against each other. I have sinned; but I now repent,
and regret all my misdeeds. I repent before God and His Prophet. Behold
me in irons before you! See! I am naked and hungry; and I lie here
patiently on the bare ground waiting for the time to come when I may
receive pardon. Master, should you think it well to let me continue in
this sad plight, then I pray God for strength to enable me to bear His
will; but now I beg of you to give me my freedom."

I had studied this speech very carefully, and had delivered it as
effectively as I could; and I saw that it had made a favourable
impression on the Khalifa. Turning then to Lupton, he said, "And you,
Abdullahi?" "I can add nothing to what Abdel Kader has said," replied
Lupton. "Pardon me, and grant me liberty."

The Khalifa now turned to me, and said, "Well, from the day you came
from Darfur, I have done everything I possibly could for you; but your
heart has been far from us: you wanted to join Gordon the infidel, and
fight against us. As you are a foreigner, I spared your life; otherwise
you would not be alive now. However, if your repentance is real and
true, I will pardon both you and Abdullahi. Saier, take off their
irons."

We were then removed by the warders, who, after long and hard work, and
by making use of ropes, at last succeeded in opening my foot-irons. We
were then again brought before the Khalifa, who was patiently sitting on
his angareb waiting for us. He ordered the saier to bring the Kuran,
which he laid on a furwa (sheepskin), and called on us to swear eternal
allegiance to him. Placing our hands on the Kuran, we swore to serve him
honestly in the future. He then rose and directed us to follow him; and
we, almost beside ourselves with delight at our release after this long
imprisonment, joyfully followed in his footsteps.

My friend the Sheikh of the Hawara was also liberated at the same time.
The Khalifa, having been assisted on to his donkey by his servants,
ordered us to walk by his side; but we could scarcely keep up with him,
for our eight months' imprisonment in chains had so cramped our legs and
feet that we found we had lost the habit of stepping out. When we
reached his house, he directed us to wait in a rekuba in one of the
outside enclosures, and left us. He returned again a few minutes later,
and, seating himself beside us, warned us most seriously to adhere to
all his orders. He then went on to say that he had received letters from
the Commander of the Army in Egypt, stating that he had seized and
imprisoned all the Mahdi's relatives in Dongola, and that he demanded in
exchange all the captives who had formerly been Christians. "We have
decided to reply," said he, "that you are now all Mohammedans, that you
are one with us, and that you are not willing to be exchanged for people
who, though the relatives of the Mahdi, are far from us in thought and
deed; and that they can do as they like with their captives; or," added
he, "perhaps you would like to go back to the Christians?" With these
words he ended his speech.

Lupton and I assured him that we should never leave him of our own
free-will; that all the pleasures of the world would never tear us from
his side; and that it was only by being constantly in his presence that
we learnt to act in such a way as would lead to our salvation.
Thoroughly taken in by our mendacity, he promised to present us to the
Mahdi, who had arranged to come to the Khalifa's house that afternoon,
and then he left us.

The rekuba being in one of the outer enclosures, into which people were
admitted, several friends who had heard of our release came to
congratulate us, amongst them Dimitri Zigada, but this time without his
usual quid of tobacco. My friend Esh Sheikh also came; and when I told
him that we were to be presented to the Mahdi, he again gave me the
benefit of his good advice, and instructed me how to behave when the
momentous occasion arrived. It was almost evening when the Khalifa came;
and, directing us to follow him, he led us to an inner enclosure, where
we saw the Mahdi sitting on an angareb. He had become so stout that I
scarcely knew him. Kneeling down, we repeatedly kissed the hand he held
out to us. He now assured us that his only wish was for our good, that
when men are placed in chains, it exercises a lasting and beneficial
influence on them; by this he meant to say that when a man is timid,
this punishment makes him avoid committing offences in the future. He
then turned the conversation to his relatives who had been captured by
the British, and about the exchange they had proposed, but which he had
refused, adding, with a hypocritical smile, "I love you better than my
own brethren; and therefore I refused to exchange." In reply, I assured
him of our love and sincerity to him, saying, "Sire, the man who does
not love you more than himself, how can his love proceed truly from his
heart." (This was a paraphrase of the Prophet's own words which my
friend the Sheikh had suggested I should repeat.) "Say that again," said
the Mahdi; and, turning to the Khalifa, he said, "Listen." When I
repeated the words, he took my hand in his and said, "You have spoken
the truth; love me more than yourself." Summoning Lupton as well, he
took his hand, and made us repeat the oath of allegiance, saying, that
as we had proved unfaithful to our first oath, it must be renewed. This
over, the Khalifa signed to us to retire; and, again kissing the Mahdi's
hand, we thanked him for his beneficence, and returned to our rekuba to
await his further instructions.

It was some time before the Khalifa returned; and when he did, he
permitted Lupton, without further ado, to join his family, who were
still located in a tent in the Beit el Mal, and, sending with him a
mulazem to show the way, assured him that he would take every care of
him. I was now alone with the Khalifa. "And you," said he, "where do you
wish to go; have you any one to take care of you?" And I felt him gazing
at me, whilst I cast my eyes to the ground, knowing that was what he
wished me to do. "Besides God and yourself," I replied, "I have no one,
sire; deal with me as you think best for my future."

"I had hoped and expected this answer from you," said the Khalifa; "from
this day you may consider yourself a member of my household. I shall
care for you, and shall never allow you to want for anything; and you
will have the benefit of being brought up under my eye, on condition
that, from this day forth, you absolutely sever your connection with all
your former friends and acquaintances, and associate only with my
relatives and servants; you must, moreover, obey implicitly every order
you receive from me. During the day, your duty will be to stay with the
mulazemin employed on my personal service at the door of my house; and
at night, when I retire, you will be permitted to go to the house which
I shall assign to you. When I go out, you must always accompany me: if I
ride, you must walk beside me, until the time comes when, should I see
fit, I will provide you with an animal to ride. Do you agree to these
conditions, and do you promise to put them into full effect?"

"Master," I replied, "I agree with pleasure to your conditions. In me,
you will find a willing and obedient servant; and I hope I may have
strength to enter upon my new duties."

"God will strengthen you," he replied, "and bring you to all good." He
then rose, and added, "Sleep here to-night; may God protect you till I
see you again to-morrow."

I was now quite alone. So I had gone from one prison to another! I fully
grasped the Khalifa's intentions: he had no real wish for my services,
for he had not the slightest confidence in me; nor did he wish to
utilise me against the Government and against the civilised world. He
merely wanted to keep me always under control; probably it flattered his
vanity to know he could point to me, his slave, once a high official of
the Government, who had commanded his own tribe, which was now the
foundation on which his power rested, and show them and the other
western tribes that I was now his humble servant. Nevertheless, said I
to myself, I shall take good care not to displease him, or give him a
chance of putting his evil purposes into effect. I thoroughly understood
my master; his smiles and friendly looks were not worth a jot, indeed
one day he had told me as much himself. "Abdel Kader," he had said to me
in the course of conversation, "a man who wants to command must neither
betray his purpose by gesture, nor by his countenance; otherwise his
enemies or his subjects will discover some means of frustrating his
designs."

The next morning, he came to me, and, summoning his brother Yakub, he
directed him to show me some spot in the neighbourhood where I might
build my huts, adding that it must be as near his house as possible. As,
however, most of the vacant spots in the vicinity had been already
occupied by the Khalifa's relatives, a piece of ground, about six
hundred yards from the Khalifa's house, and not far from Yakub's
residence, was given to me.

The Khalifa now summoned his secretary, and showed me a document
addressed to the commander of the English army, to the effect, that all
the European prisoners had, of their own free-will, become Mohammedans,
and that they had no wish to return to their countries. This document he
desired me to sign.

All my servants, horses, and baggage had been taken off by Abu Anga,
with the exception of an old lame Nubawi who, when he heard of my
release, came to see me from Fadl el Maula's house. I at once informed
the Khalifa, and obtained permission to take this man back into my
service. I also spoke to him about Abu Anga and my servants; and he
asked if the effects were going to be returned to me,--a strange
question indeed! When one's possessions have been seized by violence and
carried off, are they likely to be given back? I replied much in the
same style, that I was sure, that as now I belonged to his household, I
could well do without these little trifles, and that I thought it quite
unnecessary for him to write to his field-marshal about so trivial a
matter. What was I to do with horses, when I was not allowed to ride
them? Had not my education with the Khalifa begun by being forced to
walk barefoot!

All the same, I was really very anxious to have my old servants back
again, though I did not actually require their services very much; but I
knew, that had I attempted to claim them, I should only have aroused the
Khalifa's opposition. The latter was, therefore, greatly pleased with my
reply, and began chatting to me about Abu Anga. He then asked me,
abruptly, "Are you not a Mohammedan; where then did you leave your
wives?" This was, indeed, an ugly question. "Master," said I, "I have
only one, and I left her in Darfur; and I am told that she was arrested
with all my other servants by Said Mahmud, and is now in the Beit el Mal
at El Obeid."

"Is your wife of your own race?" asked the Khalifa, inquiringly. "No," I
replied, "she is a Darfurian; and her parents and relatives were killed
in the battle with Sultan Harun. She and several others had been
captured by my men; and I gave most of them to my servants and soldiers
to marry. This orphan alone was left; and she is now my wife."

"Have you any children?" asked he; and, when I replied in the negative,
he said, "A man without offspring is like a thorn-tree without fruit;
as you now belong to my household, I shall give you some wives, so that
you may live happily."

I thanked him for his kindness, but begged that he would postpone his
present until I had at least erected my huts; because, I remarked, this
exceptional mark of his favour must not be exposed to the public gaze.
To recompense me for my property which had been taken by Abu Anga, the
Khalifa instructed Fadl el Maula to hand over the effects of the
unfortunate Olivier Pain, which were at once sent to me. They consisted
of an old jibba, a well-worn Arab cloak, and a Kuran printed in the
French language. Fadl el Maula had sent word to me that, during the time
which had elapsed, his other effects had been lost. At the same time,
the Khalifa directed that the money which had been taken from me when I
was imprisoned, and had been deposited in the Beit el Mal, should be
returned to me. It amounted to £40, a few sequins, and a few gold
nose-rings which I had collected as curios; all these were handed back
to me by Ahmed Wad Suleiman.

I was now able to set to work to build my huts; but whilst they were
being put up I lived in the Khalifa's house. I entrusted my old servant
Saadalla, the Nubawi, who was the most competent of all my attendants,
with the construction of my residence, which was to consist for the
present of three huts and a fence. I myself, from early morning till
late at night, was always in attendance at the door of my master.
Whenever he went for a short walk or a long ride, I was always obliged
to accompany him, barefooted. During the first few days, as my feet got
cut and bruised, he allowed me to have some light Arabic sandals made,
which, though they gave me some protection against the stones, were so
hard and rough that they rubbed off all the skin. Occasionally, the
Khalifa used to call me in to eat with him, and frequently sent for what
was over of his own food to be consumed by the principal mulazemin, of
whom I was now reckoned as one. When he retired at night, I was at
liberty to return to my huts; and there, stretching my weary limbs on an
angareb, I slept till early dawn, when I was again obliged to await the
Khalifa at his door, and accompany him to morning prayers.

Meanwhile, the Khalifa had been informed that my huts were erected, and,
returning home late one night, my old servant Saadalla informed me that
a female slave, closely muffled up, had been brought to my house, and
was now installed within. Directing Saadalla to light a lantern and show
the way, I followed, and found the poor thing huddled up on a palm-mat.
When I spoke to her about her past life, she answered, in a deep voice
which did not presage well for the future, that she was a Nubawi, and
had formerly belonged to an Arab tribe in Southern Kordofan, but had
been captured, and sent to the Beit el Mal, from whence she had just
been despatched to me by Ahmed Wad Suleiman. Whilst speaking, she
removed her scented white drapery from her head, as slaves always do
when talking to their masters, and exposed her bare shoulders and part
of her bosom. I signed to Saadalla to bring the light nearer; and then I
had to summon all my presence of mind so as not to be terrified and fall
off my angareb. Out of her ugly black face, peered two little eyes; a
great flat nose, below which were two enormous blubber-shaped lips
which, when she laughed, were in danger of coming in contact with her
ears, completed one of the most unpleasant physiognomies I had ever
beheld. Her head was joined to her enormously fat body by a
bull-dog-like neck; and this creature had the audacity to call herself
Maryam (Mary). I at once directed Saadalla to remove his compatriot to
another hut, and give her an angareb.

So this was the Khalifa's first gift to me: he had not given me a horse,
a donkey, or even a little money, which would have been of some use to
me, but had presented me with a female slave, for whom, even had she
been fair, he knew well I should not have cared, as, let alone her
disagreeable presence, her food and dress were items of expense which I
by no means relished. When he saw me the next day, after morning
prayers, he asked me if Ahmed Wad Suleiman had satisfactorily carried
out his wishes. I replied, "Yes; your order was most promptly carried
out," and then gave him an exact description of my new acquisition. The
Khalifa was furious with Ahmed Wad Suleiman, who, he asserted, not only
did not comply with his order, but had made him unfaithful to the
Mahdi's ordinances. My candour in describing exactly the class of slave
given me, re-acted somewhat unpleasantly on my head; for, the following
evening, a young and somewhat less ugly girl, selected by the Khalifa
himself, was sent to me, and her also I handed over to the tender
mercies of the faithful Saadalla.

The Mahdi, his Khalifas, and their relatives, having now no longer any
fear from external enemies, began to build houses suitable to their new
positions and requirements. The numbers of young women and girls who had
been seized and distributed on the fall of Khartum were now hurried off
into the seclusion of these new residences; and their masters, no longer
disturbed by the jealous and envious looks of their friends, were able
to enjoy their pleasures undisturbed.

Naturally, the Mahdi, the Khalifas, and, more especially, the relatives
of the former were most anxious that it should not be known that the
greater part of the loot taken in Khartum was in their own hands; it was
a striking contradiction of the doctrine of the Divine master, who
forever preached renunciation and abandonment of the pleasures of life.
They set to work to enlarge their habitations and enclosures,
anticipating that they would fill them still further with the rich spoil
which was expected from the provinces that still remained to be
conquered.

But the Mahdi fell suddenly ill; for a few days he did not appear at the
mosque for prayers. No particular attention, however, was paid to his
absence at first, for he had asserted, over and over again, that the
Prophet had revealed to him that he should conquer Mecca, Medina, and
Jerusalem, and, after a long and glorious life, should expire at Kufa.
But the Mahdi was attacked by no ordinary indisposition: the fatal
typhus fever had fallen upon him; and, six days after he had sickened,
his relatives in attendance began to despair of saving his life. My
master, the Khalifa, was, of course, watching with the most intense
interest the outcome of the disease, and did not leave the Mahdi's
bedside day or night, whilst I and the other members of the body-guard
aimlessly waited for our master at his door. On the evening of the sixth
day, the multitudes collected before the Mahdi's house, and in the
mosque, were commanded to join together in prayer for the recovery of
the Divine patient, who was now in the greatest danger; and this was the
first occasion on which the malignant disease from which the Mahdi was
suffering was announced to the public. On the morning of the seventh
day, he was reported to be worse; and there was now little doubt that he
was dying. In the early stages, he had been treated by his wives and by
Sudanese quacks with the usual domestic remedies; and it was only at the
last moment that Hassan Zeki, one of the detested Egyptians, formerly
medical officer of the Khartum hospital, who, by a lucky chance, had
been saved on the day of the attack, was called in. Asked to prescribe,
he affirmed that the complaint had now reached such a stage that it was
not advisable to use any medicines, and that the only hope lay in the
resistance of his powerful constitution, which, with God's help, might
drive out this terribly malignant disease. Hassan Zeki, indisposed as he
was to render any assistance, was perfectly well aware that the Mahdi
was now beyond the reach of medicines; he also knew that if he had
prescribed, and the Mahdi had subsequently died, he would undoubtedly
have been credited with the cause of his death, and his life would have
been in the greatest danger. From all these considerations, he therefore
wisely refrained from interference.

The disease had now reached its crisis. By the Mahdi's angareb stood the
three Khalifas, his near relations, Ahmed Wad Suleiman, Mohammed Wad
Beshir (one of the principal employés of the Beit el Mal in charge of
the Mahdi's household), Osman Wad Ahmed, Said el Mekki (formerly one of
the most renowned religious Sheikhs of Kordofan), and a few of his
principal and most faithful adherents, to whom special permission had
been granted to enter the sick-room. From time to time, he lost
consciousness; and, feeling that his end was drawing near, he said, in a
low voice, to those around him, "Khalifa Abdullahi Khalifat es Sadik has
been appointed by the Prophet as my successor. He is of me and I am of
him; as you have obeyed me and have carried out my orders, so should you
deal with him. May God have mercy upon me!" Then gathering up all his
strength, with one final effort, he repeated a few times the Mohammedan
creed (La Illaha illallah, Mohammed Rasul Allah), crossed his hands over
his chest, stretched out his limbs, and passed away.

Around the body, which was not yet cold, the late Mahdi's adherents
swore fidelity to Khalifa Abdullahi, Said el Mekki being the first to
take the Khalifa's hand, own his allegiance, and praise his name. His
example was immediately followed by the two Khalifas and the remainder
of those assembled. It was impossible to keep the Mahdi's death secret;
and the crowds waiting outside were informed about it: but, at the same
time, strict injunctions were given that no weeping and lamentation
should be made; and it was further announced that the Khalifa
(successor) of the Mahdi should demand the oath of allegiance from the
entire populace. The Mahdi's principal wife, named Sittina Aisha Um el
Muminin (Our Lady Aisha, Mother of the Believers), who lay huddled up
and closely veiled in a corner, and who had been a witness of the death
of her master and husband, now arose and proceeded to the Mahdi's house,
bearing to the other wives the sad news of his death. Her office was to
comfort them, and prevent them from making loud lamentation. Most of
these good women rejoiced secretly in their hearts at the death of their
husband and master, who had brought such terrible distress upon the
land, and whom, even before he had fully enjoyed the fruits of his
success, Almighty God had summoned to appear before the Supreme Seat of
Judgment.

In spite of the strict and oft-repeated injunctions against loud
lamentation, weeping and wailing arose from almost every house on the
death of the Mahdi el Muntazer, who, it was reported, had voluntarily
departed from his earthly abode to God, his master whom he longed to
see.

Some of those now present began to wash the body, and then wrap it in
several linen cloths; whilst others dug the grave in the room in which
he had died, and which, after two hour's hard work, was finished. The
three Khalifas, together with Ahmed Wad Suleiman and Wad Beshir, now
placed the body in the grave, built it over with bricks, and then filled
it up with earth, on which they poured water. This over, lifting up
their hands, they recited the prayers for the dead; then, leaving the
room, they proceeded to pacify the impatient crowd awaiting the news
without.

We mulazemin were the first to be summoned before the new ruler, who,
henceforth, was called Khalifat el Mahdi (successor of the Mahdi); and
he gave us the oath of allegiance, directing us at the same time to move
the Mahdi's pulpit to the entrance door of the mosque, and to inform the
populace that he was about to appear before them. Informed that this had
been completed, he left his late master's grave, and, for the first
time, ascended the pulpit as ruler. He was in a state of intense
excitement. Great tears rolled down his cheeks as, with a trembling
voice, he began to address the multitude. "Friends of the Mahdi," he
shouted, "God's will cannot be changed. The Mahdi has left us, and has
entered into heaven, where everlasting joys await him. It is for us to
obey his precepts, and to support one another, just as the stones and
walls of a house go to make a building. The good things of this life are
not lasting. Seize, therefore, with both hands the good fortune which is
yours, of having been the friends and adherents of the Mahdi, and never
deviate in the slightest degree from the path which he has shown you.
You are the friends of the Mahdi, and I am his Khalifa. Swear that you
will be faithful to me."

This short address over, all those present now repeated the well-known
oath of allegiance; but the Khalifa altered the first sentence of it as
follows: "Bayana Allah wa Rasulahu wa Mahdina wa bayanaka ala
tauhidillahi, etc."

As only a certain number could take the oath of allegiance at one time,
those who had finished made way for others; and the crowd was so
enormous that many were in danger of being trodden to death. The
ceremony went on till nightfall. The Khalifa had now long since ceased
weeping, and was rejoiced to see the crowds who thronged to him to swear
him eternal allegiance. From continual talking, he had become quite
exhausted; and, descending from the pulpit, he took a draught of water
to moisten his parched throat. But the thought that he was now the
assured ruler of the enormous masses before him seemed to keep him up;
and it was only when darkness actually supervened that some of his
principal men urged him to desist, and leave the pulpit. Before doing
so, however, he summoned all the Emirs of the Black Flag, and called
upon them to take a special oath of allegiance, admonishing them to
adhere faithfully to him and to his brother Yakub, and calling their
attention to the fact that, being strangers and foreigners, they should
endeavour to live in harmony with each other as long as they were in the
valley of the Nile, for they would require union in order to
successfully oppose the intrigues of the local inhabitants; and once
again he impressed upon them the all-important necessity of adhering
most strictly to the doctrines of the Mahdi. By this time it was past
midnight; but it was out of the question to think of going home. Utterly
exhausted, I lay on the ground and heard the passers-by loud in their
praises of the late Mahdi, and assuring each other of their firm resolve
to support his successor in carrying out their late master's precepts.

Now what had the Mahdi done, and wherein lay his power to revive a
religion which had become so debased? What was the nature of his
teachings? He had preached renunciation; he had inveighed against
earthly vanities and pleasures; he had broken down both social and
official ranks; he had made rich and poor alike; he had selected as
clothing a jibba, which became the universal dress of his adherents. As
a regenerator of religion, he had united the four distinct Moslem sects:
the Malaki, the Shafai, the Hanafi, and the Hambali, which differ from
each other only in minor details,--such as the method of performing
ablution, the method of standing or kneeling down in prayers, the manner
of conducting marriage ceremonies; and, by astutely making certain much
needed reforms, he had succeeded in combining these four great
divisions. He had made a collection of certain specially selected verses
from the Kuran, which he called the Rateb, and which he enjoined should
be recited by the entire congregation after morning and afternoon
prayers,--a ceremony which lasted at least forty minutes. He had
facilitated the method of performing prayer ablutions, and had strictly
forbidden the drinking bouts which were an invariable accompaniment of
marriage ceremonies in the Sudan; he had reduced the amount of the
"Mahr" (the present usually given by the bridegroom to the bride) to ten
dollars and two dresses for unmarried girls, and to five dollars and two
dresses for widows. Whoever sought for more or gave more was considered
to have performed an act of disobedience, and was punished by
deprivation of all property. A simple meal of dates and milk took the
place of the costly marriage feast. By these innovations, the Mahdi had
sought to facilitate the ceremony of matrimony, and had strictly
enjoined on parents and guardians to see that their daughters and wards
were married early.

At the same time, he had forbidden dancing and playing, which he
classified as "earthly pleasures;" and those found disobeying this order
were punished by flogging and confiscation of all property. The use of
bad language was punished with eighty lashes for every insulting word
used, and seven days' imprisonment. The use of intoxicating drinks, such
as marissa or date wine, and smoking were most strictly prohibited.
Offences of this description were punishable by flogging, eight days'
imprisonment, and confiscation of goods. A thief suffered the severance
of his right hand; and should he be convicted of a second offence, he
lost his left foot also. As it was the general custom amongst the male
population of the Sudan, and especially amongst the nomad Arabs, to let
their hair grow, the Mahdi had directed that henceforth all heads should
be shaved. Wailing for the dead and feasts for the dead were punishable
by deprivation of property.

In order, however, that the strength of his army should not be decreased
and endangered by desertion, owing to the severe mode of life he had
prescribed, and fearful that his doctrines which were considered
unorthodox should be made known in the various foreign countries by
which he was surrounded, he practically made a cordon round the
countries he had already conquered, and absolutely prohibited passage of
persons through these districts for the purpose of performing a
pilgrimage to Mecca. Should any one cast the slightest doubt on the
Divine nature of his mission, or should there be the slightest
hesitation to comply with his orders, on the evidence of two witnesses,
the delinquent was invariably punished by the loss of the right hand and
left foot. On some occasions, witnesses were dispensed with,--a
revelation from the Prophet was even more efficacious in proving the
guilt of the offender.

As, however, most of these dispositions and ordinances were entirely at
variance with the Moslem law, he therefore issued most strict
injunctions that the study of theology and all public commentaries
thereon should cease, and ordered, moreover, that any books or
manuscripts dealing with these subjects should be instantly burnt or
thrown into the river.

Such were the teachings of the expected Mahdi; and he had left no stone
unturned to carry into the fullest effect the ordinances he had made.
Openly, he showed himself a most strict observer of his own teachings;
but, within their houses, he, his Khalifas, and their relatives entered
into the wildest excesses, drunkenness, riotous living, and debauchery
of every sort, and they satisfied to their fullest extent the vicious
passions which are so prevalent amongst the Sudanese.




CHAPTER XI.

EARLY RULE OF KHALIFA ABDULLAHI.

    Success of Khaled's Stratagem to entrap Darho--Execution of
    Darho--Sieges of Sennar and Kassala--Fall of Ahmed Wad
    Suleiman--The Khalifa and the Black Troops--Execution of the
    Mudir of Kassala--My Journey to Abu Haraz--My Plans of Escape
    impracticable--The Khalifa presents me with a Wife--Mutiny of
    Black Soldiers at El Obeid--Death of the Emir Mahmud--Abu Anga
    seizes Khaled and throws him into Chains--Campaign in the Nuba
    Mountains--Lupton in Difficulties--He works in the Khartum
    Dockyard--Revolt of the Kababish--Difficulties begin with
    Abyssinia--Death of Klootz--Organisation of the Beit el Mal--The
    Khalifa's System of Jurisdiction.


From the date of the Mahdi's departure from Rahad, up to the time of his
death, nothing of importance had happened in the various provinces of
the Sudan which could be calculated to change the course of events.

Mohammed Khaled had settled in El Fasher, and had despatched his Emirs
in various directions. Instead of meeting with resistance, they were
received everywhere with open arms by the deluded inhabitants, who vied
with one another in their anxiety to become subjects of the Mahdi. The
western districts of Dar Gimr, Massalit, and Dar Tama, as far as the
frontier of Wadai, all sent in their submission, and a number of
valuable presents; Saleh Donkusa too, and his friends the Bedeyat, also
anxious not to expose themselves to new dangers, sent in a deputation
conveying their salutations and gifts. Mohammed Khaled had also sent one
of his friends, a merchant named Hajji Karar, from Kobbé, with presents
to Sultan Yusef, of Wadai. On his arrival, Sultan Yusef had received him
kindly, and had sent him back to Khaled with a present of several horses
and female slaves, and with the assurance that he might consider him an
adherent of the Mahdi, whose rules and ordinances he was at all times
ready to obey.

Abdullahi Dudbenga, on the other hand, Sultan Harun's successor in Jebel
Marra, paid no heed to the summons calling him to El Fasher; he had a
personal quarrel with Khaled, and had no desire to put himself within
his reach. However, finally, when he received an ultimatum to either
come at once, or to risk a war, he submitted and came in; but a few days
later fled, fearing that he was about to be placed in chains, and his
money and property confiscated. Instead, however, of returning to the
Jebel Marra, he proceeded to Omdurman, where he was well received by
Khalifa Abdullahi, who gave orders that his family and effects should be
brought from Darfur to Omdurman. Meanwhile, Khaled, furious at his
flight, had him pursued as far as the Kordofan frontier, and ordered
that all villages which gave refuge to the fugitive should become the
property of the Government, and that the village Sheikhs should be shot.
He also despatched Omar Wad Darho with a considerable force to Jebel
Marra, with instructions to announce to the inhabitants that, having
hitherto failed to make their submission, or to give presents, they
should in consequence be considered "Ghanima" (booty). Omar Wad Darho,
anticipating quantities of loot, proceeded to his destination; whilst
Khaled thought the present occasion a fitting one to send some of his
best horses and his fairest women to the Mahdi and his Khalifas. Darho
met with little resistance in Jebel Marra. The villagers fled to the
hills; but, having procured good guides, he pursued them into the most
inaccessible places, and succeeded in putting numbers of them to the
sword. Their women and children he divided up amongst his men, selecting
and sending to Khaled all the best. His men, however, unused to this
continual hill marching, became exhausted, and his horses were, for the
most part, without shoes; nevertheless he succeeded in collecting a
quantity of loot, and returned to El Fasher on the actual day that the
terrible and unexpected news of the Mahdi's death had arrived there.

Darho, anticipating important changes owing to this untoward event, did
not hesitate to take advantage of the situation; and, proceeding
forthwith to Kobbé, he declared himself independent, stating he would no
longer serve under Khaled's orders; indeed, he made preparations to
fight him, and make himself eventually ruler of Darfur. He went so far
as to propose to the Emirs who had accompanied him to Jebel Marra, that
he would divide amongst them the lands of Darfur; but the latter,
deeming Darho's action ill-considered, argued that they were not likely
to get more from him than they did from Khaled. They therefore urged him
to desist, declaring that in the event of his refusal, they would make
full report of the circumstances to Khaled. Darho's party daily
diminished in numbers; and it was not long before he recognised the
rashness of his act. Meanwhile, Khaled, alarmed by Darho's pluck and
resolution, determined to entrap his old friend by stratagem: he
despatched his acquaintance Ali Bey Khabir to him with a message to the
effect that he solemnly swore to do Darho no harm, should he return, and
that he would at once forget the matter which, after all, would never
have happened had it not been for the perfectly comprehensible
excitement occasioned by the Mahdi's sudden death. In order, however, to
satisfy public opinion, he enjoined that Darho should come to El Fasher
as a penitent, and publicly acknowledge his error, promising that
henceforth he would faithfully serve the Mahdi's successor.

Ali Khabir succeeded in convincing Darho of Khaled's sincerity. At this
time the hostile party consisted only of a few soldiers, the Shaigia,
and some local tribesmen, and was quite incapable of any sustained
resistance; accompanied therefore by these, he proceeded to El Fasher,
and, before entering the town, they placed iron chains about their
necks, and followed Khabir to the meeting place designated by Khaled. On
their way, they were insulted by the populace, who had collected in
crowds to jeer at them; Darho was infuriated, and, on reaching Khaled's
presence, cried out that had he had any notion he was to be received in
this insulting manner, he would never have come. Khaled, seizing on
Darho's words as a pretext, instantly ordered him and his officers to be
arrested and thrown into chains; Darho, now losing all control of
himself, insulted Khaled in the most open manner, and, in consequence,
they were hurried off to the prison, their numbers being increased by
three former officials, _viz_., Ibrahim Seian and Hassan Sharkassi, both
Egyptian officers, and Yakub Ramzi, chief clerk of the Court of Justice,
who were accused of having been in secret correspondence with Darho.
These latter, pleading that they had been former Government officials,
and had not now sufficient to live upon, admitted that they had written
a letter to Darho, though only regarding the death of the Mahdi; but it
was affirmed that they had instigated him to revolt. In spite of their
undoubted innocence, Khaled ordered them, as well as Darho and his
friends, to be shot dead at sunrise the following morning; but this
sentence was not allowed to be publicly known. Khabir Ali, however,
learning what was intended, rushed to Khaled's house, and endeavoured to
dissuade him from his purpose; but this was not till the following
morning, and on his way he stumbled across the bodies of his decapitated
friends. Raising his voice, he declared before the bystanders that, had
he thought for a moment such measures would have been taken, nothing
would have induced him to act as a mediator; and he deplored most
bitterly the death of his old friends who had been slain in so
treacherous a manner.

Abu Anga was now in Kordofan. This province had submitted entirely to
the Mahdi, with the exception of the southern mountainous regions, the
inhabitants of which were looked upon as slaves who had objected to pay
tribute, and who were consequently ordered to emigrate to Omdurman. As
they had refused to comply with these demands, Abu Anga had been
despatched south, with injunctions not only to enforce their subjection,
but also to quarter his enormous force of Jehadia on them, and to
procure plenty of slaves. After losing a considerable number of men, and
a quantity of ammunition, he succeeded in carrying out these orders to
some extent; but a large proportion of the inhabitants still continued
to defend themselves most bravely in their mountain fastnesses, and
remained independent. Thus, with the exception of this small proportion
of the natives, the entire Western Sudan, from the banks of the White
Nile to the frontiers of Wadai, acknowledged the sway of the Mahdi.

In the eastern districts, however, the Governors of Sennar and Kassala
continued to defend their posts. Whilst Khartum was being besieged,
steamers had been sent under Subhi Pasha to Sennar, and, after
replenishing the posts, had returned to the capital. But when the local
tribes had been summoned by the Mahdi to join in the holy war, they,
collecting under their head Sheikh, Merdi Abu Rof of the Gehéna tribe,
laid siege to the town. Surrounded for several months, the brave but
famishing garrison at length made a sortie, drove off the besiegers, and
captured in their camp a quantity of stores and grain which lasted them
for some time. The Mahdi, believing that the local tribes were somewhat
lukewarm in their efforts, reinforced them by his cousin Abdel Kerim,
with a considerable force from Khartum. The latter, learning that the
garrison was now suffering severely from famine, determined to take the
town by storm; but he was forced back, and the garrison, making a
counter attack, drove him out of his position. In spite of this victory,
however, the condition of Sennar became hopeless; constant fighting,
famine, and the impossibility of relief began to tell at last.

Meanwhile, Kassala had been closely besieged; and, although the garrison
had made several successful sorties, they had gained no really decisive
victory, and had not been able to replenish their store of provisions.

The Egyptian Government, learning the critical situation of the
garrisons in the Eastern Sudan, now appealed to King John of Abyssinia
to co-operate in relieving the posts of Gallabat, Gira, Senhit, and
Kassala, and bring their garrisons to Massawa. The Governor of Kassala,
however, declared that as the garrison of the town was composed for the
most part of local people, he could not induce them to leave the
country. The Mahdi now sent Idris Wad Abder Rahim and El Hussein Wad
Sahra with reinforcements to hasten the fall of the town. Meanwhile,
King John had succeeded in relieving the garrisons of Senhit, Gira, and
Gallabat, and removing them to Massawa; thus all the Arab tribes lying
within the Suakin-Berber-Kassala triangle became fanatical adherents of
the Mahdi. Osman Digna had already been appointed Emir of this district;
whilst Mohammed Kheir was ordered to proceed from Berber with
instructions to occupy Dongola with the Jaalin and Barabra, after the
retirement of the British army.

Such was briefly the situation in the Sudan when Khalifa Abdullahi
became its ruler. It was not, therefore, without reason that he summoned
the western Arab tribes to unite together, and seriously called their
attention to the fact that they were strangers and foreigners in the
Nile valley. It can be readily understood that the Aulad-Belad, or local
population, more especially the Barabra, Jaalin, and the inhabitants of
the Gezira, did not appreciate the advent of the Khalifa and his western
Arabs, from whom they entirely differed in ideas and character; they saw
with dread the new ruler seizing the reins of government, and relying
entirely for the execution of his orders on his western compatriots. One
of the Khalifa's first steps was to expel from his position Ahmed Wad
Suleiman, whom he detested, and whom he knew to have given a large share
of the booty to the Ashraf (Mahdi's relatives), who looked on him with
no friendly eye. The unfortunate Ahmed was ordered to give an account of
the funds which had passed through his hands during the previous year;
Abdullahi well knew that the Mahdi had trusted Ahmed entirely, and had
never called on him to keep full and accurate accounts, because the
money he issued was almost invariably given under the Mahdi's verbal
orders, and he held no receipts. It was, of course, impossible for Ahmed
to produce the account; and his expulsion from the Beit el Mal, and the
confiscation of his property, and that of several of his assistants, was
looked upon by the populace as an act of justice. The Khalifa appointed
in his place Ibrahim Wad Adlan, who was of the Kawahla tribe located on
the Blue Nile, but had spent many years of his life as a merchant in
Kordofan, and was in favour with the Khalifa.

Adlan was now ordered to open ledgers showing the revenue and
expenditure, and to keep his books in such a manner that at any moment,
on the demand of the Khalifa, he should be able to give an exact
statement of the financial situation. He also ordered him to keep a
careful list of those to whom money was issued, or who were in receipt
of pensions.

Almost simultaneously with the death of the Mahdi, came the news of the
failure of the attack on Sennar, and of the repulse of Abdel Kerim. The
Khalifa, therefore, at once despatched Abderrahman en Nejumi to take
supreme command; and, in August, 1885, the garrison surrendered to that
redoubtable warrior. As usual, the fall of the town was the signal for a
series of brutal atrocities and cruelties. A number of the inhabitants
were sent to the Khalifa, amongst them, all the good-looking young
girls, and the daughters of the former Government officials, of whom the
Khalifa kept some for himself, and distributed the remainder amongst his
Emirs.

Abdullahi entertained a particular aversion for the Mahdi's cousin Abdel
Kerim, and he now summoned him and his followers to Omdurman. Abdel
Kerim, being Khalifa Sherif's assistant, had taken with him when he went
to Sennar the Black soldiers of Sherif's flag; it was rumoured at the
time, that he had said that, if supported by his own adherents, as well
as by those of Khalifa Sherif, he would be sufficiently powerful to
force Khalifa Abdullahi to hand over his authority to Sherif, who, being
a relative of the Mahdi, and a Khalifa, had every right to succeed. It
was not known if Abdel Kerim was really serious in his intentions, or if
these were mere idle tales; but Abdullahi prepared himself, and all his
relatives, and directed his brother Yakub to hold his men in readiness
when Abdel Kerim came. On the same day that he arrived in Khartum, his
men were ordered to be transferred to Omdurman, and he himself received
instructions to parade for the Khalifa's inspection. Accordingly, on the
following day, at the head of six hundred men, he took up his position
by the flag; and Abdullahi arrived accompanied by the force prepared by
his brother, and by several thousands of others. He heartily greeted
Abdel Kerim and his troops, praised them for their courage in the siege
of Sennar, and then dismissed them. On his return to his house, he
ordered the two Khalifas and all the Mahdi's relatives to come to his
residence immediately after evening prayers.

At sunset, we mulazemin were ordered to hold ourselves in readiness to
introduce the expected visitors to the Khalifa. On their arrival, they
were taken to the inner part of the house, and directed to seat
themselves on the ground; the two Khalifas only were given sheepskins to
sit upon, while Abdullahi seated himself on a small angareb. From his
elevated position, the Khalifa now ordered his secretary to read the
document which had been written by the late Mahdi in his favour. This
done, he informed the assembled people that Abdel Kerim was unfaithful.
The latter of course denied it; nevertheless, he was found guilty, and
Khalifa Ali Wad Helu seized the occasion to declare, in the most
vehement terms, that he was a most faithful adherent of the Mahdi, and
Khalifa Abdullahi's slave. He based this declaration on the contents of
the statement just read, and on the Mahdi's last words as he lay on his
death-bed. Abdullahi, not wishing to appear too much concerned about
Abdel Kerim's conduct, gave him a full pardon, but ordered that his
Black soldiers should be at once handed over. Khalifa Sherif and his
relatives were obliged to accept this condition; and Ali Wad Helu, on a
wink from Abdullahi, suggested that they should all renew the oath of
allegiance. The proposal was accepted; the Holy Kuran was brought in;
and those present, placing their hands on the sacred volume, swore that
it was their duty to hand over to the Khalifa all their Black soldiers
and arms. By way of encouragement, Khalifa Ali was the first to swear,
and in this respect aided and abetted his master at a critical moment to
no inconsiderable extent. Khalifa Sherif and his relatives, however,
swore very unwillingly; and, after Abdullahi himself had administered
the oath, they were permitted to leave. This was the Khalifa's first
blow to his antagonists; and he thus crippled their power, and reduced
them to a harmless position.

Now Mohammed Khaled alone was left; and, being one of the Mahdi's near
relatives, he had for long been a thorn in Abdullahi's side.

That evening, I happened to be alone with the Khalifa, and he talked
over the events of the day, remarking that, "A regent cannot share
authority;" by this he inferred that the action of the two other
Khalifas had placed him in the position of an absolute ruler.

On the following morning, Abdel Kerim and Ahmed Wad Suleiman,
representing Khalifa Sherif, handed over all their Black soldiers, arms,
and ammunition to the Khalifa's brother Yakub, who received them in the
open space in front of his house. Khalifa Ali also made over the
soldiers in his charge; and the united force of Blacks was now placed
under the command of Abu Anga's brother, Fadl el Maula, who, in order to
exercise control, took up his residence temporarily in the barracks. Not
content with these measures, Abdullahi now sent for the war-drums in
charge of the other Khalifas; and they were at once handed over, without
further ado, to his deputy. Still not satisfied, he ordered the flags,
which hitherto were always planted in front of the residences of the
respective Khalifas, to be collected and placed all together in front
of Yakub's residence. The previous day he had, by kind words, won over
Khalifa Ali to his side; and now the latter was the first to plant his
flags in their new positions. Khalifa Sherif was powerless to do
anything; all his Black soldiers, his flags, and his war-drums, which
are always known as signs of authority in the Sudan, were safely
deposited in Yakub's hands; and the populace were not slow to recognise
that Abdullahi meant to be the one and only ruler, and was resolved to
have his commands obeyed.

Whilst all these important matters were transpiring in the capital, the
news arrived that Kassala had surrendered, and that Osman Digna was
fighting against the Abyssinians under the leadership of Ras Alula.
Although the Abyssinians had been victorious, and had driven Digna back
to Kassala, they did not pursue him, but returned to their own country.

Osman Digna now accused the former Governor, Ahmed Bey Effat, of having
incited the Abyssinians to take up arms against him, and of having been
in communication with them. There were no grounds for this suspicion;
but, nevertheless, he and six former officials of Kassala had their
hands tied behind their backs like criminals, and were shot dead.

Idris Wad Ibrahim, who, it will be remembered, had been despatched to
Kassala, was now ordered to return to Omdurman with all his men,
ammunition, loot, and women that he had captured, and to leave the
country in the hands of Osman Digna.

Abdullahi fully realised that his action in regard to the other Khalifas
would naturally rouse the ire of the Mahdi's relatives, with whom he was
already on bad terms; but this was a matter of little concern to him. He
was determined, by all the means in his power, and, if necessary, by
recourse to violence, to enforce his commands, whatever they might be.
But, on the other hand, he did not wish to entirely alienate public
opinion, nor to give grounds to the numerous Mahdists, who, owing to
their love for the Mahdi, entertained a certain affection for his
relatives, for bringing against him accusations of injustice or
hostility; he therefore presented them with numbers of female slaves,
and to Khalifa Sherif he gave some very fine horses and mules, and
distributed quantities of slaves amongst his retainers. He took good
care to make these gifts widely known; and the populace, in their turn,
praised him for his magnanimity, and went so far as to extol his justice
and liberality in songs. Still bent on improving his position, he
despatched his relative and my friend, Yunes Wad ed Dekeim, and his
cousin Osman Wad Adam to Kordofan, and, in order to remove from Omdurman
the Black troops he had taken away from the Khalifas, he despatched them
also to the west. Yunes was instructed to bring into subjection the
Gimeh tribe, which was both rich and strong, but which had shown some
lukewarmness in obeying the Khalifa's summons to immigrate to Omdurman.
Osman Wad Adam was ordered to join Abu Anga, and await further
instructions. To both, however, he gave strict injunctions to collect as
many male and female slaves as possible, and instruct the former in the
use of fire-arms. Previous to the arrival of Yunes in Gimeh, the head
Sheikh, Asaker Wad Abu Kalam, had already been summoned to Omdurman, and
had been imprisoned there; but his cousin, unwilling to submit to the
rule of Yunes, had, while endeavouring to escape, been overtaken and
killed, while his tribe was now deprived of the greater part of its
property, and forced to proceed to Omdurman. Yunes, having crossed the
river at Goz Abu Guma, had established a settlement there, and now
returned to the Khalifa for further orders. He had already despatched
thousands of cattle to Khartum, and, in consequence, received a very
warm welcome. The Khalifa now instructed him to remove the tribe to Wad
el Abbas, opposite Sennar, where he would send him further orders. Yunes
had a considerable attachment for me, and asked the Khalifa's permission
to take me with him, in order to assist in the transport arrangements,
as the Gimeh people were peculiarly unmanageable. At first, the Khalifa
refused the request, but eventually acceded to Yunes's pressing demand.
I had already taken possession of my new quarters the previous month,
and my servant, with his three wives, who had been detained at El Obeid
when on his way from Darfur, was now brought here by the Khalifa's
orders. Three other male servants and their wives also arrived; but as
they did not appear anxious to remain in my service, I handed them over
to Fadl el Maula, who, in accordance with the Khalifa's orders, took
them into the ranks. My household now consisted of four male servants
with their wives; and I asked the Khalifa's permission to take three of
them with me to Sennar. "There is no necessity for you to take any of
your servants with you," said the Khalifa. "Leave them here, and I will
see that they are looked after; while Yunes will be responsible for your
comfort during the journey. I hope you will justify my confidence in
you. Carry out the orders of Yunes, and you will regain my regard; go
now to him, and tell him that I permit you to accompany him on his
journey."

Yunes, delighted at the Khalifa's permission, said that he would do all
he could to make my journey pleasant, and talked so quickly and
incessantly that I scarcely understood half of what he said. I was
delighted at the thought of leaving Omdurman, and being away from the
tyrant whom I was obliged to serve day and night; I secretly cherished a
hope that during the journey I might find some occasion to escape from
the hands of my tormentors.

One of the mulazemin now summoned me again to the Khalifa's presence.
"Did you inform Yunes," said he, "that you are going to accompany him?"
and when I replied in the affirmative, he ordered me to sit down, and
again began to give me the benefit of his advice. "I urge you," said he,
"to serve me faithfully; I look upon you as my son and my heart is
inclined toward you. God's holy word, the Kuran, promises rewards to the
faithful, but threatens the traitor with the Divine wrath. Yunes is your
well-wisher, and will attend to what you may say to him. Should he
attempt to undertake anything which is not likely to lead to his
advantage, you should warn him, for he is your master; but I have told
him that I look upon you as my son, and he will take heed of what you
say." "I will always endeavour," said I, "to act in accordance with your
instructions; but Yunes is my master, and will naturally do what he
thinks right. Do not therefore attribute ill-will to me; and I beg you
will not make me responsible for anything which may happen contrary to
your wishes."

"You are only in a position to offer an opinion," said he; "but you have
no power to act. Should he pay heed to you, well and good; if not, it
will be his own lookout if matters go wrong." He then turned the
conversation to affairs in Darfur, and told me that he had written some
time ago to Mahmud Sherif to return with all available troops to
Kordofan, leaving in Darfur a commander who, in his opinion, would be
equal to the position. He had replied that amongst his relatives there
was no one capable of representing their interests; and he recommended
the selection of some one who could not only see after the public
affairs of the province, but also his private business as well. In
reply, the Khalifa had assured him of his favour, urged him not to
listen to intriguers, but to come as soon as possible to Kordofan, and
thence to Omdurman. The last news he had received was to the effect that
Mahmud was on the point of coming with all his forces, and that he was
already on the road. "Do you think," said the Khalifa, "that he will
comply implicitly with my orders, and will come? You know him better
than the others."

"Undoubtedly he will come," I replied; "for he does not dare to act
contrary to your instructions." "I hope that this is so," replied he; "a
timid subject is always more easy to rule than one who is not afraid to
act disobediently."

The conversation had already lasted some time; and I was about to ask
permission to retire, when he beckoned to one of his eunuchs who was
standing close by, and whispered a few words in his ear. I knew my
master well, and had a foreboding of ill.

"I have already instructed you," said he, "to leave behind all the
members of your household; for, having only just arrived from a long
journey, they must be fatigued, and I do not wish to expose them
further. Yunes will give you a servant; but I am giving you a wife, so
that, in case of indisposition or illness, you may have some one to
attend on you. She is pretty, and not plain like the one Ahmed Wad
Suleiman sent you," he said with a smile; and now beckoning to the woman
who had just entered, to come nearer, the latter approached and threw
off her veil. I glanced at her, and, in spite of her dark colour, she
really was very pretty. "She was my wife," added the Khalifa; "she is
very good, and patient; but I have so many, I therefore gave her her
freedom; but you may now call her your own."

I was much embarrassed, and all the time had been casting over in my
mind how I could refuse this gift without offending the giver.

"Sir, allow me to speak candidly," said I.

"Certainly," said he, "here you are at home. Speak!"

"I am at home where I need fear nothing," I began, hastily; "this woman
was your wife, and has in consequence a right to be treated with
consideration for your sake; this of course is an easy matter. But,
sire, how can I, your servant, take your own wife for myself? Moreover,
you said yourself that you look upon me as your son." Having said this,
I dropped my head, and fixed my eyes on the ground, continuing, "I
cannot accept this gift;" and then I awaited his answer with anxiety.

"Your words are good, and I pardon you," said he, signing to the woman,
who was standing near us, to withdraw. "Almas!" said he, to the eunuch,
"bring my white jibba!" and when the servant brought it, he handed it to
me, saying, "Take this jibba, which I have often worn myself, and which
was specially blessed by the Mahdi for me.[15] Hundreds and thousands
of people will envy you this; guard it carefully, for it will bring you
blessings."

I was delighted with this present, and fervently kissed his hand, which
he extended to me; but inwardly I rejoiced to be rid of the woman, who
would have been a useless encumbrance to me, besides an additional
expense; and I thought the jibba an excellent exchange. I then begged
leave to withdraw, and carried off with me my valuable present.

Yunes had fixed his departure for that day; but, before leaving, I was
summoned once more to the Khalifa, who, in the presence of Yunes, again
reminded me to be faithful and submissive.

That evening, we left Omdurman on board the steamer "Bordein," which had
been floated off the place where it had gone aground; and, on the second
day, we reached Goz Abu Guma. In accordance with the Khalifa's
instructions, we were to hurry on the Gimeh people to Wad el Abbas as
quickly as possible; and we called on the Beni Hussein tribe to supply
us with camels to carry the water-skins. Yunes was specially kind and
considerate to me; he gave me one of his horses and three female slaves,
and instructed two old soldiers to wait on me as servants. His total
force numbered ten thousand combatants, of whom seven thousand belonged
to the Gimeh tribe, who were encumbered with a mass of women and
children. I distributed the camels and water-skins amongst them; and we
now prepared for the journey. Our road led through Sekedi Moya, across a
plain which, as I remarked before, had been named Tibki Teskut (You weep
and are silent); and as I crossed it, I recalled all the bloodshed and
fighting which had taken place in the Sudan. In the houses which lay
close to the track, we saw innumerable skeletons of the rebels who had
been driven away from the wells by Saleh, and had succumbed to thirst.

On the third day, we reached the banks of the Blue Nile, and saw Sennar
in the distance; the Khalifa had issued strict orders that we should on
no account proceed to this city, which was now lying half ruined, and
which, as it had held out until after the Mahdi's death, the Khalifa
said, would bring us no luck. We found several boats in readiness, and
in them crossed the Blue Nile, which is here about four hundred yards
broad; but this operation took us several days. Just north of Wad el
Abbas, there is a strip of high sandy ground; and this was selected as
the position of the camp, because the land in the vicinity is low-lying,
and unfit for habitation during the rainy season. All my thoughts were
now bent on flight; but, as most of the people entirely sympathised with
the Khalifa's government, it required the greatest care on my part to
select any one in whom to place confidence. Very soon after our arrival
at Wad el Abbas, I received a letter from the Khalifa, which ran as
follows:--

    "In the name of God, the All-bountiful and Merciful, from the
    noble Sayed Abdullahi Ibn Sayed Mahmud, by the grace of God,
    Khalifat el Mahdi, on whom be peace, to our brother in God,
    Abdel Kader Saladin.

    "After this greeting of peace, this is to inform you that I have
    not received any letter from you since your departure; but I
    hope that, by the grace of God, you are in good health. You know
    my instructions, and you have drunk from the river of my
    eloquence; I have urged you to remain faithful, and I know that
    you will uphold your promise. This day, I received a letter from
    one of the Mahdi's friends, who tells me that your wife, coming
    from the land of the unbelievers, has reached Korosko, and is at
    this moment endeavouring to bribe people to induce them to fly
    with you, in order to bring you to her; and I have been told
    that you know all about this. I therefore again urge you to
    adhere steadfastly to the faith of the Prophet, and to perform
    with honesty the duties upon which you have entered; but I wish
    to add that no doubt has entered into my heart of your fidelity.
    I only wish you peace, and I greet you."

At the same time, a letter arrived for Yunes to the effect--so his
secretary told me in confidence--that news had come from Berber, and
that a very strict watch was to be kept over me. Under these
circumstances, I could not conceive why the Khalifa had written to me.
Yunes did not tell me that he had received these instructions, and,
outwardly, was more friendly than ever with me; but I was guarded very
closely both by day and night, and when, a few days later, some hundreds
of the Gimeh Arabs were, in accordance with the Khalifa's orders,
embarked on a steamer to proceed to Omdurman, Yunes instructed me to
return with them in order, he said, to give the Khalifa a verbal account
of the situation. I perfectly understood what was meant, and realised
that he wished to avoid the responsibility of having me with him.

When all the people were embarked, I went to say good-bye to Yunes, who
gave me orders to inform the Khalifa on a number of points. I said that
when this duty was over, I presumed I should return to him, to which he
replied, "Perhaps you wish to remain with our master the Khalifa, or
possibly he may require your presence in Omdurman. Had I better send the
horse I gave you after you, or shall I keep it here?" I assured him that
I looked upon the horse as his, and not mine; for I was well aware that
once back in Omdurman, I should again have to walk barefoot. As a token
of his friendship, Yunes gave me a hundred hides, and a letter of
recommendation to the Khalifa. The second day after leaving Wad el
Abbas, I reached Omdurman, handed over the Gimeh under my charge to
Yakub, and was then received by the Khalifa. He affected great surprise
at seeing me, saying that he thought I should have some difficulty in
leaving Yunes even for an hour. These were of course mere empty words;
for I knew perfectly well that this was a plan arranged between them to
get me back without my suspecting it. Meanwhile, he gave me permission
to go and visit my household, after which I was to return to him for
further orders.

In the evening, we were once more alone, and he began to talk of the
letter which had come from Berber. I assured him that if the letter had
really come, it must have been written with an intention to do me harm,
or that there was some mistake; and, in proof of this, I told him that I
had never been married, and that, in consequence, there could be no
pining wife to come and look for me. Should any one, however, come to
Omdurman and try to induce me to fly, my first step would be at once to
inform the Khalifa. He assured me that he did not believe the rumour,
and then asked me if I preferred to stay with him or return to Yunes.
Guessing his intention, I told him that nothing in the world would
induce me to leave him again, and that I considered the time spent with
him as the happiest in my life. Although pleased at my flattering words,
he took occasion to remind me, in a very serious tone of voice, to be
faithful and true, and to have nothing whatever to do with people other
than his own household; and he then ordered me to take my place as usual
before the gate.

On withdrawing from his presence, and thinking the matter over, I had no
doubt now that his suspicions against me had not only taken root, but
had begun to grow.

At this time the force in El Obeid included about two hundred Blacks,
mostly old soldiers, whose numbers had been increased by the arrival of
a portion of the former garrison of Dara. Many of them were inhabitants
of Jebel Daïr, who were in constant enmity with the Mahdists, and who
had been captured by them and utilised as slaves to build their huts.
Indignant at this treatment, they resolved to regain freedom by force.
Fadl el Maula Bekhit, one of my servants who had been detained in El
Obeid, and Beshir, a former lieutenant, were the ringleaders of this
conspiracy; and it is always a wonder to me that the Mahdists did not
succeed in discovering the plot. Sayed Mahmud, it will be remembered,
had been summoned to Omdurman; and the mutineers now thought the
favourable moment had arrived to put their plans into execution.
Suddenly, at midday, the inhabitants of El Obeid were startled by the
firing of rifles; the soldiers had seized the isolated building which
was used as a storehouse for the arms and ammunition, and were firing on
the Dervishes, who had attacked them in this position. The latter were
driven back; and the former then succeeded in collecting their wives and
children. The Dervishes, having only a few fire-arms, had retreated to
the Government buildings, and had barricaded the doors. The soldiers,
encouraged by their success, now attempted to take these buildings by
storm; but were forced to retire. In this attack, Abder Rahman el
Borusi, formerly one of my best and bravest subalterns, was killed;
while the Dervishes lost Abdel Hashmi, Sayed Mahmud's representative,
who was greatly detested by the soldiers on account of his overbearing
ways. If the soldiers had only had a good leader, El Obeid would
certainly have fallen into their hands; but, under the circumstances,
they had no special desire to take this post, and were merely bent on
regaining their freedom. That night they spent in the powder magazine,
where they were joined by quantities of male and female slaves, who took
this opportunity to run away from their masters. Early the next morning,
the inhabitants and the Dervishes attempted an attack on the soldiers,
but were utterly defeated, and lost a large number in killed and
wounded. The soldiers, longing for freedom, now left El Obeid, and
marched in a southerly direction towards the Nuba mountains; but, before
leaving, they plundered a number of houses, and, seizing the women they
found there, made them their slaves. The Dervishes now attempted to
pursue them; but the soldiers, elated by their freedom, again utterly
routed them. Unfortunately, the Emir of the soldiers, a certain Wad
Abdulla, a native of Wad Medina, and who had also been one of my
officers at Dara, knew of the plot, but did not join in time, fearing
it might fail; he was now seized by the Gellabas, and, in spite of his
innocence, was beheaded.

The news of this mutiny was at once sent to Sayed Mahmud in Omdurman;
and the Khalifa, no longer requiring his services there, permitted him
to return to El Obeid, with instructions to come back as soon as
possible to Omdurman with his family, and with all the other relatives
of the late Mahdi, but forbade him to pursue the mutineers. When,
however, he arrived at El Obeid, moved either by feelings of revenge, or
thinking perhaps that by killing the mutineers he should obtain favour,
he disregarded the Khalifa's orders, and, collecting all the able-bodied
inhabitants of the town and neighbourhood, advanced against the
soldiers. The latter had taken up a strong position in the Golfan and
Naïma hills, and had established there a sort of military republic,
nominating as their chief Beshir, who was formerly a sergeant. He gave
careful instructions that the ammunition was not to be wasted; and he
forbade the mention of the name of the Mahdi under pain of punishment.
They acknowledged the Khedive as their master, and swore in his name;
and the neighbourhood supplied them with abundant food.

Sayed Mahmud, on his arrival at El Obeid, had despatched secret agents
to assure the mutineers that he loved them as his own children, and that
he would give them a full and free pardon should they submit to him. The
soldiers jeeringly replied, that he should first of all convince himself
of their affection for him. Thereupon, Mahmud resolved to storm the
mountain, and, carrying his own banner at the head of his troops, he was
shot dead while leading the assault. Several of his adherents who
attempted to recover his body met with a like fate, whilst the remainder
of his following dispersed, and fled in all directions, pursued by the
Nuba mountaineers, who inflicted heavy loss on them.

Hamdan Abu Anga, who at this time was only a few days distant from the
scene of operations, at once reported this occurrence to the Khalifa,
and asked to be allowed to punish the victorious mutineers; but he was
instructed to take no further action, as his master had more important
duties for him to perform; he had now to deal with Mohammed Khaled.

In Omdurman, however, the Khalifa declared publicly, that Sayed Mahmud
had been justly punished by God for his disobedience; and that instead
of coming to him as ordered, he had sought fame and revenge, in
attacking the rebels contrary to his wishes.

For some time back, Khaled had received letters from the Khalifa, asking
him to come to Omdurman, and offering him a high position and honours.
The latter had made all preparations for his departure, and was on the
point of starting, when the news came of the action taken by the Khalifa
in regard to Khalifa Sherif, and the relatives of the late Mahdi. Khaled
now received further letters from Abdullahi, telling him how the action
of these relatives had forced him to take this unfortunate step; he
begged him, in consequence, to come with all speed, as he had no doubt
that his practical common sense would assist him in bringing about a
reconciliation with all parties. Khaled, believing in these assurances,
and anxious to be of assistance to his relative, hastened his journey
and camped at Bara. He had under his command a very considerable force,
which was augmented by a large number of the local population of Darfur
who had been unwillingly compelled to immigrate. He had at his disposal
upwards of a thousand cavalry, and three thousand rifles, whilst his
followers could not have numbered less than twenty thousand persons.

Previous, however, to Khaled's arrival, Abu Anga, who had with him over
five thousand rifles, had received secret instructions to move to Bara,
and now advanced thither by forced marches. At sunrise one morning,
Khaled found his camp completely encircled by Abu Anga's troops, who
were prepared to carry out his instructions, should the slightest
opposition be made. Abu Anga now summoned Khaled to appear before him;
and the order was at once obeyed. On his arrival the Khalifa's
instructions were handed to him, which were to the effect that, as a
token of his submission and fidelity, he should at once make over to Abu
Anga all his soldiers and cavalry, as the latter was considered
commander-in-chief of the army; Khaled complied with this order without
demur, and, being detained by Abu Anga, who obliged him to give the
necessary instructions, in a short time the whole of the Darfur troops
were placed under the command of subordinates nominated by Abu Anga.
This over, Abu Anga now summoned all the Emirs who accompanied him from
Darfur, and read out to them a very flattering document from the
Khalifa, in which they were given the option of remaining with him, or
returning to Omdurman.

Khaled and his relatives, however, were arrested; their property
confiscated; and all the treasure accumulated in the Beit el Mal was
taken possession of by Abu Anga. Said Bey Guma, who, for a considerable
time, had acted as chief of Abu Anga's artillery, also reaped
considerable benefit from this episode, by obtaining permission to
re-annex all his slaves, wives, and property which had been confiscated
in Darfur, and which Khaled had brought along with him.

Khaled himself was placed in irons, and sent to El Obeid; where he had
leisure to think over the Khalifa's letter, and to recognise that there
is a wide difference between making a promise, and carrying that promise
into effect.

The Khalifa, however, was completely satisfied with the result of his
plan. Once more he had inflicted a crushing blow on his opponents, who
had counted greatly on Khaled's return, but who now saw Abu Anga's army
augmented by the very men they had thought to utilise for their own
purposes. Abu Anga's force now numbered several thousands; he soon
acquired an influence over the Darfur Emirs and their subjects, whom he
considered his compatriots, and several of them proceeded to Omdurman,
where they were received by the Khalifa with the highest honours. Thus
were the fears of the inhabitants of the Nile valley increased, owing to
the growing prestige and power acquired by the western Arabs; and they
realised that for them a reign of despotic tyranny was approaching.

Abu Anga now received instructions to attack and destroy the rebels in
the Golfan mountains, who, after the death of Mahmud, considered
themselves masters of the situation, and began to treat the inhabitants
of the district tyrannically, the result being that internal dissensions
arose amongst the various tribes, and they began to scatter and return
to their own homes. On the approach of Abu Anga, my old servant with his
wife, feeling that he could not count on success, went over to him,
saying he was tired of fighting, and was ready to submit to such
punishment as his crime merited, all he begged was permission to defend
himself. He represented that he had been my servant in Darfur, and that
he, with several others, had been forcibly prevented by Mahmud from
continuing his journey, that owing to the constant insults he had
received, he had become angry and disgusted, had joined the mutineers,
and had taken an active part in the fighting; but that now he had come
to beg forgiveness, and ask permission to join me, or suffer the
punishment to which he was justly entitled. Abu Anga, whose father had
been a slave, and who always had compassion on his own tribesmen, and
detested the Gellabas (a name which the western Arabs used generally for
all inhabitants of the Nile valley), knew perfectly well that the
soldiers had been driven into revolt by the unjust treatment they had
received, and, consequently, generously pardoned my servant for the
sake, he said, of his old friendship for me, and to do me honour in my
position as mulazem of the Khalifa. He thereupon gave him a letter to
me, announcing that he had great pleasure in returning to me my old
servant, and that he rejoiced we were again united.

Beshir, who had refused the offer of submission, was attacked by Abu
Anga's troops the following day, and, after making a magnificent stand,
was killed, together with Fadl el Maula, and several soldiers who had
remained true to him to the end. On the night previous to this action,
several of his men had deserted secretly, and had hidden themselves in
various parts of the country; but one after the other they were forced
to surrender and accept the pardon offered them. Abu Anga himself,
however, took advantage of his success only in so far as to requisition
the inhabitants to supply his army with food, and to acquire male and
female slaves; whilst he left his cousin Osman Wad Adam as his
representative in El Obeid. An order now arrived that the latter should
take over the command of Darfur, where Sultan Yusef, a son of Sultan
Ibrahim, who had been killed in Zubeir's time, was in revolt.

I ascertained, from a merchant who had recently arrived from Kordofan,
that my friend Joseph Ohrwalder had quitted El Obeid, and would shortly
arrive in Omdurman. Although I knew that I should have considerable
difficulty in meeting him, I rejoiced to think that one of my old
countrymen would be near me. I sat at my master's gate, ready at all
times to obey his orders. Occasionally, I was spoken to kindly, and
commanded to dine with him; at other times, without rhyme or reason as
far as I knew, I was taken no notice of for days, receiving from my
master only the blackest and most disdainful looks; but this was due to
the extraordinary changeability of his character, and I knew I must put
up with it. I suppose this was part of my education. To my comrades, I
showed myself absolutely callous to everything that happened in the
country, so that they should have no reason to increase the distrust
felt by the Khalifa, who, I knew, frequently inquired as to my conduct.
As a matter of fact, however, I watched all the occurrences as closely
as my position would allow, and endeavoured to impress them on my mind;
for I was, of course, prohibited from writing a single line. The Khalifa
contributed very little towards the support of my household, and only
occasionally gave orders for me to be supplied with a few ardebs of
dhurra, or a sheep, or a cow.

Ibrahim Adlan, whom I had known in the time of the Government, used to
send me monthly from ten to twenty dollars; and a few of the officials
and merchants who were in better circumstances than myself, used
secretly to send me small sums of money. Thus, though by no means well
off, I did not lack the absolute necessaries of life, and only
occasionally felt the actual pinch of want; anyhow I was better off than
my friend Lupton, whom the Khalifa had promised to assist, but paid
absolutely no attention to his wants. Lupton, it is true, enjoyed a
certain amount of freedom: he was allowed to wander about in Omdurman,
and to talk to the people; nor was he obliged to attend the five prayers
daily at the mosque; but, in spite of this, life to him was full of
trouble and sorrow. I begged Ibrahim Adlan to interest himself in
Lupton, and to give a kind thought to him occasionally, by helping him
with small sums of money; but this was not sufficient to keep him, and,
though ignorant of any trade, he had perforce to earn a livelihood by
mending old arms. Having been an officer in the English merchant
service, I thought he might know something about machinery. Meeting him
one day in the mosque, he complained bitterly of his wretched position;
and I suggested to him that if he could secure an appointment in the
Khartum dock-yard, it might improve his condition. He jumped at the
idea; and I promised that I would do my best to help him. A few days
later, it happened that the Khalifa was in a good temper, and showed a
friendly disposition towards me, as Abu Anga had sent him a present of a
young horse, some money, and some of Khaled's slaves. I was commanded to
dine with him; and, in the course of conversation, succeeded in turning
the subject to the steamers and their machinery, which, up to that day,
had been an absolute mystery to him. "The steamers," said I, "require
competent men to look after them and repair damages. As most of the
workmen in the dock-yard were killed during the siege of Khartum, I
suppose you have had some difficulty in replacing them?"

"But what is to be done?" said the Khalifa. "These steamers are of the
greatest value to me; and I must do all I can to preserve them."

"Abdullahi Lupton," said I, "was formerly engineer on a steamer; if he
received a good monthly salary from the Beit el Mal, I believe he would
be really useful for this work."

"Then will you speak to him," said he, apparently much pleased; "if he
undertook this work of his own free-will and accord, without being
forced into it, I believe he would be of some use in these matters, of
which, I admit, I know absolutely nothing. I will order Ibrahim Adlan to
pay him well."

"I do not even know his whereabouts," said I. "I have not seen him for a
long time; but I will make inquiries. I feel confident that he will be
only too glad to serve you."

The following day, I sent for Lupton, told him of the conversation, but
begged him to do as little as he possibly could for our enemies.

He assured me that the steamers, of the machinery of which he had only a
superficial knowledge, would, under his charge, grow worse instead of
better, and that it was only his unfortunate circumstances which obliged
him to accept the position. The Khalifa had also spoken to Ibrahim
Adlan; and that evening, Lupton sent me word that he was now appointed
an employé in the arsenal, with pay at the rate of forty dollars a
month, which would be just sufficient to save him from absolute want.
The Khalifa took this occasion to dismiss from the arsenal a certain
Sayed Taher, an uncle of the Mahdi, by whom he had been appointed
director. He had been formerly a carpenter in Kordofan, was excessively
ignorant, but excelled in every description of dishonesty, and freely
sold iron and other material; he was replaced by an Egyptian who had
been born in London, and was of such a timorous nature that he did not
dare to be dishonest.

The Khalifa now found that the Kababish, who inhabited the northern
portion of Kordofan as far as Dongola, and whose herds pastured down to
Omdurman, were not sufficiently submissive for his purpose; he therefore
gave instructions to Ibrahim Adlan to confiscate everything they had,
under the pretext that they had been frequently ordered to undertake a
pilgrimage, and that they had refused to comply. Ibrahim Adlan
accordingly sent off a a party, who confiscated the Kababish flocks.

This tribe used to do all the carrying trade of gum from Kordofan, and
possessed considerable sums of money, which, in accordance with the
usual Arab custom, they buried in some out-of-the-way place in the
desert known only to themselves; they were now maltreated and tortured
in order to make them disgorge, with the result that large amounts
reached the Beit el Mal. The tribe as a whole submitted without much
fighting; but Saleh Bey, the head Sheikh, and a brother of Sheikh et
Tom, who had been beheaded by the Mahdi, collected his nearest
relatives, and, together with them, proceeded to the wells of Om Badr,
where nobody dared to follow them. The Khalifa thereupon despatched two
well-known Sheikhs, Wad Nubawi of the Beni Jerrar and Wad Atir of the
Maalia, to ask him to come to Omdurman, not only promising him full
pardon, but also his nomination as Emir of the Kababish. Saleh Bey
listened quietly to the proposition, and, to the astonishment of the
messengers, took some tobacco, which is detested by the Mahdists, and,
putting it into his mouth, said, "I have well understood what you have
said; the Khalifa forgives me entirely, and desires me to come to
Omdurman. Supposing now that on my arrival the Prophet should appear to
the Khalifa--for we all know that the Khalifa acts altogether on the
inspirations of the Prophet--and instructs him not to forgive me; what
then?" The messengers were not able to answer this question, and, each
having received a present of a camel, returned to the Khalifa and
related exactly what had occurred. Several of the Kababish who had been
deprived of their property, now deserted to Sheikh Saleh at Om Badr;
and, in a very short time, although not a very powerful enemy, he was
sufficiently so to prove of considerable annoyance to the Khalifa.

In Omdurman, the Kababish camels and sheep were sold by auction in the
Beit el Mal, and the price of meat fell considerably in consequence, but
the price of grain rose in proportion: the reason of this being that
Yunes permitted his men in the Gezira to do just as they liked. These
districts were the granary of Omdurman; and Yunes, having introduced
into them thousands of the Gimeh tribe, with their wives and children,
who had been deprived of all they possessed, these now organised
themselves into bands of brigands who not only seized all the grain they
could lay their hands on, but terrorised the inhabitants who cultivated
the land. Thus the store of grain diminished daily; whilst the army of
Yunes, to his great delight, grew in numbers, being augmented by runaway
slaves and a large supply of independent individuals. It was the
Khalifa's intention to weaken the power of the Gezira people, who
belonged, for the most part, to Khalifa Sherif's party; but now the
paucity of grain somewhat alarmed him, and he therefore sent orders to
Yunes to return to Omdurman with his entire force. In accordance with
these instructions, this great mass of people swept towards Omdurman,
seizing everything they could lay their hands on; and Yunes entered the
capital, as it were, at the head of a conquering army laden with loot of
every description. He was ordered to take up a position towards the
south end of the city, near the forts; and to this day the place is
known as Dem Yunes.

Shortly after his arrival, it was rumoured in Omdurman that the
Abyssinians intended attacking Gallabat. It was said that a certain
Hajji Ali Wad Salem, of the Kawahla, who resided in Gallabat, and who
had formerly had some trading transactions with the Abyssinians, was
travelling in their country, had been made an Emir of a portion of his
tribe, had invaded Abyssinian territory, and had destroyed the Church of
Gabta.

A certain Takruri named Saleh Shanga, who had resided at Gallabat, and
had held a position of some importance under Government, had quitted
that town on its evacuation by the Egyptian troops, and had settled down
in Abyssinia; but his cousin Ahmed Wad Arbab had been made Dervish Emir
of the district. Ras Adal, Governor of the province of Amhara, now
called on Arbab to deliver up Hajji Ali, who had been disturbing the
peace; and as this demand was refused, he had collected a considerable
force, and had invaded Gallabat. Meanwhile, Arbab, who had received
warning of Ras Adal's approach, now collected his followers, amounting
to some six thousand men, and awaited his arrival outside the town. The
rush of the Abyssinian force, which was ten times as strong as that of
Arbab, was terrible: in a few minutes, the Mahdi's forces were
completely surrounded; Arbab himself killed, and almost all his troops
massacred, only a very few escaping. The Abyssinians mutilated the
bodies of all, except that of Arbab, which, out of consideration for
Saleh Shanga, was untouched. The Dervishes had stored their spare
ammunition in an isolated house, and had placed it in charge of an
Egyptian, who, being called upon after the battle to surrender, refused
to do so; and on the Abyssinians attempting to storm it, he blew it up,
thus destroying himself and his enemies. The wives and children of those
who had been killed, were now carried off into captivity by the
Abyssinians. Gallabat itself was burnt to the ground; and, for a long
time, its site was little else than a great open cemetery, the abode of
nothing save hyenas.

When the news of the destruction of Wad Arbab's army reached the
Khalifa, he sent a letter to King John requesting him to release the
captive wives and children in exchange for a sum of money which he asked
him to fix; but, at the same time, he ordered Yunes to quit Omdurman
with his entire force, and proceed to Gallabat, where he was to await
further orders. On the departure of the army of Yunes, the Khalifa
himself, with a number of his followers, crossed to the west in a
steamer, and, after staying with them three days, he gave the warriors
his parting blessing, and then returned to Omdurman.

Some time since, Gustav Klootz, who had failed to make a living in
Omdurman, had disappeared, and I thought he must have escaped out of the
country; but I now learnt, from some merchants who had just arrived from
Gedaref, that he had reached that place, but had succumbed to the
fatigues of the journey, and had died just before the Abyssinian
invasion.

Nejumi and Abu Girga were now ordered, the former to Dongola, and the
latter to Kassala, with instructions to occupy the country with their
troops, whilst Osman Digna was appointed ruler of the Arab tribes
between Kassala and Suakin. The Khalifa, however, in order to keep
himself fully informed of the actions and intentions of Nejumi and Abu
Girga, who, with their men, originally belonged to the Nile valley, and
did not, in consequence, possess his entire confidence, nominated two of
his own relatives, Mussaid Wad Gaidum and Osman Wad Ali, as his
representatives, with instructions that they should on all occasions be
consulted. In this manner, not only did Mussaid and Ali obtain a certain
amount of control, but the arrangement also tended to give them a
species of authority amongst the Nile Arabs. Thus, gradually, he
extended his power over the entire Sudan, by lessening the authority of
the local inhabitants, and placing his own relatives and tribesmen in
positions of importance. He and his Emirs enlarged their households
almost daily, and their luxurious mode of life required the expenditure
of considerable sums of money; it was therefore necessary to acquire a
thorough hold over the revenues of the country. The number of his
personal followers, and especially his armed mulazemin, increased
rapidly, and it was necessary to arrange for their maintenance. Money
was required for them, as well as for those who were secretly hostile to
him, and whom he wished to gain over to his side without an open
rupture.

Ibrahim Adlan was now called upon to regulate the finances. The revenues
consisted of fitra (poll-tax), which every living man was obliged to pay
at the end of the great fast of Ramadan; its payment was usually made in
grain,--approximately eight rotls,--but it might also be paid in cash.
No one was exempt from this obligation; and parents were compelled to
pay not only for their children under age, but even for their newly-born
babes. Another source of income was the zeka (or two-and-a-half-per-cent
"alms for the poor") which was paid in grain, cattle, or money in
accordance with the Moslem Law. The officials appointed to gather this
tax were nominated by Yakub and Ibrahim; and it was presented by them to
the Khalifa. They were obliged to keep a strict account of all receipts,
which they had to render to the Beit et Mal, supported by vouchers.

An attempt was also made to regulate the expenditure, that is to say,
Ibrahim Adlan was forbidden to pay away money as he thought proper. Of
course, certain persons,--such as the Kadi, his clerks, the chiefs of
the mulazemin, etc.,--whose services were absolutely necessary to the
Khalifa, were granted certain specified sums, which were paid monthly,
but which were so small that they were scarcely sufficient to provide
for the bare necessaries of life; for instance, the chief Kadi, who bore
the title of Kadi Islam, received only forty dollars a month; the
Khalifa's secretary, thirty; and so on. Khalifa Sherif and his relatives
received a certain sum in accordance with the Khalifa's special orders;
but Khalifa Ali Wad Helu, owing to his submission and obedience, was in
the Khalifa's favour, and obtained a somewhat larger amount. The
principal share, however, of the Sudan revenue was absorbed by the
Khalifa and his relatives; and he and his brother Yakub utilised it in
satisfying the demands of the western tribes, whose adherence to his
cause was most necessary, and who, having left their own country, were
occasionally in considerable straits.

Another means of increasing the revenue was by the hiring out of ferries
along the whole extent of the river; and Ibrahim Adlan also started a
soap-boiling establishment, which was made a Government monopoly. One
day, the Khalifa, riding through the city, entered a district which he
did not usually visit, and there his olfactory nerves were greeted with
an odour which he well knew; he at once ordered search to be made to
discover from whence it came, and, in a few minutes, a poor half-naked
individual was brought before him, holding in his hand a stewpan in
which he had been attempting to boil soap. The Khalifa at once gave
orders that he should be thrown into prison, and his property,
consisting of a stewpan and an angareb, should be confiscated.

An immense stock of silver trinkets, captured in the various campaigns,
lay stored up in the Beit el Mal; and quantities of these had been sold
for much below their value and had been secretly taken, from time to
time, by dealers to Egypt. In order to put a stop to this, the Khalifa
now decided to make his own coinage. After the fall of Khartum, Ahmed
Wad Suleiman had attempted to coin silver dollars and gold guineas; but,
on the Mahdi's express wish, he had abandoned it. Ibrahim Adlan,
however, now began to strike half, quarter, and whole dollars; and it
was arranged that the new dollar, which weighed eight drachms, should
consist of six drachms of silver and two of copper, but should have the
same value as the Medjidi dollar. The merchants, however, refused to
accept these; and, as a punishment, the Khalifa confiscated their goods
and closed their shops. This brought them to reason; and, on agreeing to
accept them at their whole value, their property was restored; but they
were warned that, if they made any further difficulties, they would be
punished by the loss of the right hand and left foot. The natural
outcome of these arbitrary measures was an immediate rise of prices to
compensate for the difference in value between the new and old dollars;
of course, all the Khalifa knew was that the dollar had been accepted,
and with that he was satisfied.

Another source of income realised by Ibrahim Adlan was the organisation
of the sale of slaves; it was now arranged that slaves of both sexes
should be sold at a certain specified place near the Beit el Mal. The
vendor was obliged to make out a bill, endorsed by the Beit el Mal,
admitting that the object of negotiation was absolutely and entirely the
property of the purchaser; and for this bill a tax was levied.

The Beit el Mal was now arranged in the most comfortable manner
possible; it was removed from the vicinity of the mosque, and located in
a large walled enclosure near the river. Adlan had special buildings
erected for his own clerk, for counting-houses, and for drug-stores
where the old medicines which had escaped destruction in the sack of
Khartum, were now deposited; he also erected large grain stores. In
fact, Ibrahim Adlan was ambitious enough to endeavour to make his
position rank next to that of the Khalifa in importance; and, while
doing all he could to remain in his good graces, he did not forget that
the latter was also to a large extent in the hands of the Kadis, or
religious judges, of whom the chief was Ahmed Wad Ali, Kadi of Islam.

All lawsuits and quarrels of a public or private nature, as well as
Government litigation, were brought before the Court of Kadis to be
decided; and, in accordance with the Khalifa's instructions, they were
supposed to execute judgment as laid down in the Sheria Mohammedia
(Religious Law), the Manshur el Mahdi (Instructions of the Mahdi), and
El Ishara (Signs and Commands of the Khalifa). The natural result of
this was, that, instead of upholding the law, they became the prime
abusers of it. It frequently happened that the "instructions" of the
Mahdi differed entirely with the religious law; and then, besides this,
the "signs and commands" of the Khalifa had also to be observed,--that
is to say, each case was judged in accordance with the Khalifa's wishes;
and it invariably happened that judgment was given in favour of the
Mahdi or Khalifa, even in private quarrels in which, in order to obtain
some personal advantage, the Khalifa frequently and most unjustifiably
interfered. In the Kadi el Islam, the Khalifa had a most faithful
servant, ever ready to obey his master's wishes to the letter, no matter
how grossly the law was misapplied. Human life was of no account; and
the Kadi and his colleagues would, without the smallest hesitation, give
a judgment utterly opposed to right and truth, and which would have the
most direful consequence on perfectly innocent persons. In order to
qualify the grossest miscarriages of justice, he would publicly announce
from his pulpit, that he himself would be perfectly prepared to submit
to this jurisdiction, and that should any one consider himself in the
smallest degree oppressed by the judgment just given, he had only to
appeal to the Court of Kadis. On one occasion, a dweller on the White
Nile, who had been recently, and very unjustly, dismissed from his
position as Emir, believing in the genuineness of the Khalifa's
statement, summoned him to appear before the Kadis. He complied with the
summons, and entered the mosque where the judges were sitting in an
attitude of complete submission; and, the news having got about that the
Khalifa had been invited to appear before a Court of Justice, an immense
crowd collected to hear the proceedings. The plaintiff, Abdel Minem,
stated that he had been wronged by the Khalifa, having been dismissed by
him from his position as Emir, which he had held during the whole period
of the Mahdi's rule, and that he was popular with his own tribe, who did
not wish him removed. The Khalifa, having dismissed him because he
suspected him of leanings to the party of Khalifa Sherif, defended
himself by saying that he had summoned him on several occasions, in
order to give him some important instructions, but that he was never to
be found either in his house or in a place of worship, which was a proof
that he was neglectful in matters of religion, and that it was on this
account he had dismissed him. Without the slightest hesitation, the
court gave judgment in favour of the Khalifa; and the plaintiff was
flogged until he bled, carried off to prison, and, on his way there, was
almost lynched by the mob.

The whole country, however, rang with the praises of the Khalifat el
Mahdi and representative of the Prophet, who, so great was his sense of
justice, did not fear to appear in the court, side by side with his own
subjects, and submissively await the judgment of the Kadis. But in order
to delude the public with the idea that he was of a most kind and
forgiving nature, he released his antagonist the following day, and
presented him with a new jibba and a wife.




CHAPTER XII.

EVENTS IN VARIOUS PARTS OF THE SUDAN.

    Karamalla's Expedition to the Bahr el Ghazal--Madibbo's Quarrel
    with Karamalla--Affairs in Darfur--Execution of Madibbo--Defeat
    and Death of Sheikh Saleh el Kabbashi--Capture of Charles
    Neufeld--My Interview with Him--Arrival of Abu Anga's Army in
    Omdurman--Destruction of the Gehéna Tribe--The Conspiracy of
    "Saidna Isa"--Abu Anga's Campaign in Abyssinia--Sack of
    Gondar--Terrible Fate of the Captives--Osman Wad Adam's Campaign
    in Darfur--Death of Sultan Yusef--Instances of the Khalifa's
    Tyranny--Building of the Mahdi's Tomb--Letters from Home--Death
    of my Mother--Death of Lupton--Nejumi ordered to invade Egypt.


Mohammed Khaled had left Sultan Yusef, the son of Sultan Ibrahim, and
the legitimate successor, as chief Emir of Darfur. He was quite a young
man, and endeavoured to strengthen his position by soliciting the
good-will of Abu Anga and his assistant, Osman Wad Adam, who then
resided at El Obeid. Every now and then he sent them quantities of
horses and slaves; and they, in their turn, sent what they thought
advisable to the Khalifa. Khaled, on leaving Darfur, had taken with him
almost all the Mahdists who were inhabitants of the Nile valley; Yusef,
therefore, found himself governing the land of his forefathers
principally by means of his own subjects; and the latter, in their turn,
assuming that his government would be mild, fully appreciated the
change.

Shortly after the Mahdi's death, the Khalifa had sent messengers to
Karamalla, in the Bahr el Ghazal, instructing him to leave the country,
and come, with all his troops, to Shakka. Karamalla, after Lupton had
surrendered the country, had taken possession of the province, and had
proceeded to Suda, and forced the mutinous Sultan Zemio to quit his
residence, which he had fortified under the directions of Dr. Junker.
Zemio had barely escaped with his life, and, taking with him some of his
wives, had left most of his treasures of ivory in Karamalla's hands.
After this success, Karamalla had moved in a southeasterly direction
into the Equatorial Provinces, which were then under the rule of Emin
Pasha, and was just approaching the Nile, when he received the orders to
turn back.

Had it not been that he had the full support of his own countrymen,
Karamalla could not have obeyed the Khalifa's command; for it was an
operation of great difficulty to induce the Bazingers to leave their own
homes and go to Shakka. However, after the evacuation of the Bahr el
Ghazal, several of the Gellabas had hurried from Darfur and Kordofan to
join Karamalla, and procure ivory and slaves for themselves. In
consequence, the riverain element, consisting principally of Jaalin and
Danagla, represented a considerable portion of the force, and it was
impossible for the Bazingers to refuse to return. Thus, partly of his
own free-will, and partly from stress of circumstances, Karamalla
returned, bringing with him an immense number of female slaves, whom he
had kidnapped from the districts through which he passed. In spite of
all his precautions, several of his Bazingers managed to escape on the
march with their arms; but he had still at his disposal over three
thousand rifles on his arrival at Shakka, where he sold his enormous
quantities of male and female slaves to the dealers, who paid him in
ready money.

Like a sensible man, he sent some of the money and the pick of the
slaves, by his brother Suleiman, to the Khalifa; and the latter, much
pleased with his present, ordered him to remain at Shakka. Both Abu
Anga, and Osman Wad Adam also came in for a fair share of the spoil.

At Shakka, however, Karamalla conducted himself as if he were ruler of
the whole country, and perpetrated every description of tyranny and
extortion. Madibbo, the Emir and ruler of this part of these districts,
reproached him bitterly; but Karamalla, who had seized a number of
horses and slaves from the Rizighat Arabs, told him to mind his own
business. Several of the malcontents now rallied round Madibbo, and this
was exactly what Karamalla wanted. He sought an excuse for a quarrel;
and when Madibbo, who had been ordered to appear before him, refused to
obey the summons, he proceeded against him as a rebel. A fight took
place; Madibbo was defeated, and fled towards Darfur; while Karamalla
followed him up through Dara as far as the neighbourhood of El Fasher,
and had thus an opportunity of seeing for himself the richness of the
country. He now requested Sultan Yusef to follow up and capture Madibbo;
whilst he himself returned to Dara, where he settled down, much to the
annoyance and disgust of Sultan Yusef's officials. Madibbo was captured
by Zaguna at about two days' distance from Fasher, and was handed over
to Sultan Yusef; and the latter sent him, under escort, to Abu Anga in
Kordofan, and at the same time took occasion to complain of Karamalla's
conduct. The latter, however, had written direct to the Khalifa in
Omdurman, informing him that the Furs were trying to revive the dynasty,
and that Sultan Yusef was only a Mahdist in outward appearance. Abu Anga
had also forwarded the letters he had received from Sultan Yusef; and
now the Khalifa had to choose between Karamalla and Yusef; but, with his
usual astuteness, he did neither.

Abdullahi rightly concluded that Yusef, being the direct descendant of
the old dynasty, would, if permitted to remain, endeavour to strengthen
his own position to such an extent that he might eventually struggle to
regain his independence. On the other hand, Karamalla, being a
Dongolawi, and a relative of the Mahdi, was undoubtedly a partisan of
Khalifa Sherif; moreover, most of the Bazingers belonged either to the
Danagla or Jaalin, and it was not to the interest of the Khalifa to
strengthen either of these parties, although they were at present openly
disposed towards him. He therefore wrote to Sultan Yusef that he was
lord of the country, that he did not entertain the slightest doubt as to
his fidelity, and many similar phrases; but instead of instructing
Karamalla to quit Dara, he sent orders for Abu Anga to officially occupy
the district. Yusef, imagining that the Khalifa had fully confirmed him
in his position, and finding that Karamalla was now in occupation of
Hillet Shieria and Toweisha, as well as Dara, determined to drive him
out of the country; an army was collected. His chief, Magdum Said Bros,
attacked the posts of Shieria and Toweisha, which were completely
destroyed; and Karamalla, after suffering very heavy losses, was forced
to retire on Shakka. In this engagement, Karamalla lost most of his best
fighting Sheikhs, amongst them Hassan Abu Taher, Ali Mohammed, and
others--all Danagla--who had fought under Yusef Shellali and Gessi Pasha
in the Bahr el Ghazal; but the Khalifa had so many enemies the less.

Madibbo was brought to Kordofan, and handed over to Abu Anga, who had an
old account to settle with him. When serving under Suleiman Wad Zubeir,
he fell, on one occasion, into the hands of Madibbo, who was very
hostile to him, and forced him to carry a huge box of ammunition on his
head during several days' march, and, when he complained about it,
mercilessly flogged and abused him. When Madibbo was brought before Abu
Anga, he had little hope of his life; but he determined to try and
obtain justice, affirming that he had not fought against the Mahdi, but
had been forced to take up arms by Karamalla. But of what use were all
his excuses and proofs of innocence, or his fidelity?--the only answer
he received from Abu Anga was: "And yet I will kill you." Madibbo, now
convinced of the uselessness of his pleading, resigned himself to his
fate, and, despairing of his life, said, "It is not you who will kill
me, but God. I have not asked for mercy, but for justice; however, a
slave like you can never become noble. The traces of the lashes of my
whip, which may still be seen on your back, were well deserved. In
whatever form death may come upon me, it will always find me calm and a
man. I am Madibbo, and the tribes know me." Abu Anga ordered him to be
sent back to prison, but forbore to have him flogged; and, the
following morning, he had him executed in front of his whole army.
Madibbo was true to his word. Standing in an open space, with a chain
round his neck, he sneered at the soldiers who galloped up to him,
shaking their lances over his head. When told to kneel down to receive
the death-blow, he called on the people who stood round to report
faithfully after his death how he had borne himself; a moment afterwards
all was over. Thus ended Madibbo, one of the ablest Arab Sheikhs in the
Sudan.

When his head was brought into Omdurman, there was general mourning
amongst the Rizighat Arabs, who had years before quitted their country
as pilgrims. Even the Khalifa himself regretted his death; but as the
deed had been done, he would not blame his greatest Emir. He therefore
concealed his indignation; but to me he remarked that had Abu Anga not
killed him, Madibbo might have done him many a valuable service.

Yunes was now apparently quite happy. He had gone from Abu Haraz to
Gedaref and Gallabat, where he had settled down; and, as his authority
was an extended one, and the people over whom he ruled were turbulent,
he asked the Khalifa's permission to undertake a campaign against the
Abyssinians, and Abdullahi, having received no answer from King John to
his peaceful letters, gave his consent. His troops, under Arabi Dafalla,
now attacked the villages along the frontier, destroyed several of them,
killing the men and carrying off their wives and children as captives.
By the rapidity of their movements, committing wholesale robberies one
day, and making murderous raids twenty miles distant the next, they had
become a perfect scourge to the Abyssinians; but, in spite of all this,
the latter still continued their commercial relations with Yunes, who,
by his amicable treatment of them in Gallabat, had induced them to come
in larger numbers to sell the produce of their country, such as coffee,
honey, wax, tomatoes, ostriches, etc., as well as horses, mules, and
slaves. The market-place lay just beyond the town; and when one day an
exceptionally large caravan of merchants, consisting of Gebertas
(Abyssinian Moslems) and Makada (Abyssinian Christians) arrived at
Gallabat, the rapacity of Yunes could not be controlled, and, on the
pretext that they had come as spies of Ras Adal, he threw them into
chains, and seized all their goods. They were then sent under escort to
Omdurman, where the ignorant mob imagined them to be the spoil of a
great victory; while the Khalifa, ever ready to increase his and his
people's prestige, publicly dubbed Yunes "Afrit el Mushrikin" (The Devil
of the Polytheists), and Mismar ed Din (The Nail of the Faith). Yunes
had been careful to send him all the prettiest of the Abyssinian girls
taken in the various raids, as well as a number of horses and mules;
thus, greedy of more victories, he decided to unite the army of Yunes
and Abu Anga, and attack King John, who, by not answering his letters,
had mortally offended him. In the meantime Yunes was instructed to
remain strictly on the defensive.

Abu Anga now received instructions to despatch fifteen hundred of his
men, all armed with Remington rifles, to Osman Wad Adam, who had been
appointed Emir of Kordofan and Darfur; but he himself was ordered to
come to Omdurman with the remainder of his troops.

Latterly, Sheikh Saleh el Kabbashi had been left undisturbed at the
wells of Om Badr; but, knowing that he would be attacked sooner or
later, he despatched to Wadi Halfa fifty of his most faithful slaves
with letters begging the support of the Egyptian Government; and the
faithful Saleh's agent obtained two hundred Remington rifles, forty
boxes of ammunition, £200 in cash, and some beautifully embossed
revolvers.

At this time, there resided at Assuan a German merchant named Charles
Neufeld, who had previously made the acquaintance of Dafalla Egail, a
brother of Elias Pasha who had recently escaped from the Sudan; from him
he learnt that in Northern Kordofan there was a large quantity of gum
which the merchants had been unable to dispose of, in consequence of the
rebellion, and which could easily be brought to Wadi Halfa with the
assistance of Sheikh Saleh. Enticed by this pleasant prospect of making
money, and filled with a love of adventure, he resolved to join Saleh's
people, in order to travel with them to their Sheikh. He had apparently
no difficulty in obtaining permission from the Government to proceed on
his journey, promising that he would send detailed accounts of the
situation in the Sudan; and, early in April, 1887, he left Wadi Halfa
with the caravan.

Nejumi, who had full information of the departure of the caravan, now
had all the roads carefully watched; and, to add to their misfortunes,
their guide lost his way, and the caravan suffered considerably from
thirst. When, at length, they approached some wells near El Kab, they
found them in possession of a party of Dervishes who were on the lookout
for them. A fight ensued in which Saleh's people, exhausted and thirsty,
were utterly defeated; most of them were killed by rifle fire, and the
remainder, Neufeld amongst them, were captured. At the beginning of the
action, Neufeld had seized a rifle, and, with his Abyssinian female
attendant, had taken up a position a short distance from the caravan;
and here, on some rising ground, he had determined to sell his life
dearly; but he was not attacked. When the fighting was over, they
offered him pardon, which he accepted, and was then taken off to Nejumi
in Dongola. The latter had all the captives beheaded, with the exception
of Neufeld, who was spared in order that he might be sent to Omdurman. I
had heard privately that an European captive was about to arrive; and,
consequently, I was not surprised when, one day in May, 1887, I saw a
crowd of people approaching the Khalifa's house, and, in their midst,
under escort, rode an European on a camel. It was generally rumoured
that he was the Pasha of Wadi Halfa. At that period, the buildings in
Omdurman were not very far advanced, and between the wall of the
Khalifa's house and the wall of the mosque was a large rekuba built of
straw, which served as a house for the mulazemin; and into this
Neufeld, after dismounting, was ushered. I held aloof, as I well
understood the nature of my master and his spies; and I pretended to be
quite indifferent to what was going on. The Khalifa, on Neufeld's
arrival, had sent for the two Khalifas and the Kadis, Taher el Magzub,
the Emir Bekhit, and Nur Angara, who had just arrived in Omdurman from
Kordofan, where he had been fighting under Abu Anga; Yakub had also been
summoned. As they entered, I whispered to Nur Angara, "Do your utmost to
save the man." To my delight, the Khalifa now summoned me, and ordered
me to sit with his advisers. He informed us that the man had been
brought in as an English spy; and he instructed Sheik el Taher Magzub to
question him. I at once asked to be allowed to speak to him in European
language; and, the request being granted, I went with Taher into the
rekuba.

When my name was mentioned, Neufeld shook my hand with great delight. I
at once drew his attention to the fact that he must address himself to
Sheikh Taher, who was the principal personage to judge him, and that he
should behave as submissively as possible. He spoke Arabic very well;
and his extreme readiness to talk made a bad impression on those
present, who ordered me to take him before the Khalifa, their general
opinion being, "He is a spy, and should be killed." Once in the presence
of the Khalifa, the latter said to me, "And what is your opinion?" "All
I know is," I replied, "that he is a German, and, consequently, belongs
to a nation which takes no interest in Egypt." I could see the Khalifa
watching me very carefully as he handed me some papers, and ordered me
to look through them: they included a list of medicines written in
German, and a letter to Neufeld in English, regarding news received in
the Sudan; also a long letter from General Stephenson, in which he was
granted permission to proceed to the Sudan with the caravan, and, at the
same time, requested to give the fullest accounts of the state of
affairs in the country. I translated this letter, but omitted the
general's request for information. "Sire," I said, "this letter shows
that he has asked permission of the Government to make this journey, and
that he is a merchant, as he told Sheikh Taher." Again the Khalifa
looked suspiciously at me, and then ordered us to withdraw and await his
further commands outside the house. An immense crowd had by this time
collected near the rekuba to see the English Pasha; and, in a few
moments, some of the Black mulazemin whom the Khalifa had summoned, came
out, and, having tied his wrists together, ordered Neufeld to leave the
rekuba. The Kadi, Nur Angara, and I had climbed up on a heap of bricks,
and from this position could see exactly what was going on. Neufeld, who
evidently thought his last hour had come, raised his eyes to heaven, and
knelt down, without having received any order to do so, and was at once
ordered to get up. Meanwhile, a man arrived, carrying an ombeÿa, and
began to make its melancholy notes resound over Neufeld's head; I was
delighted to see that this did not appear to disturb him in the least;
his poor servant, in her devotion to her master, now rushed out of the
rekuba, and begged to be killed with him; but she was at once driven
back. The Kadi and I quite realised that the Khalifa was playing with
Neufeld, just as a cat plays with a mouse; and, as sentence had not yet
been given, I endeavoured to signal to him; but he did not appear to
quite understand me. In a few moments, we were again summoned before the
Khalifa. "Then you are for having the man killed?" said the Khalifa to
Sheikh Taher, who replied in the affirmative. "And you?" he said,
turning to Nur Angara, who, in a few brief words, recalled Neufeld's
bravery, and begged to have him pardoned. "And now, Abdel Kader, what
have you to say?" he said, turning to me. "Sire," I replied, "the man
deserves to be killed, and any other ruler but yourself would have had
him killed; but, of your magnanimity and mercy, you will spare him; for
he says he has turned Mohammedan, and your mercy will strengthen his
faith." Kadi Ahmed was also for pardoning him; and now the Khalifa,
who, I saw from the first moment, had no intention of killing Neufeld,
ordered his fetters to be removed, and that he should be taken back to
the rekuba; but, that afternoon, he said to the Kadi, "Let him be shown
to the crowd beneath the scaffold, and then imprison him till further
orders; and as for you," he said, turning to me, "you will have no more
intercourse with him." We now all withdrew, but took occasion to tell
Neufeld that, although he had been pardoned, he was to be shown to the
populace that afternoon under the scaffold. The Kadi carried out his
instructions; and, to the delight of the mob, Neufeld's head was placed
in the noose by the saier.

The following day, the Khalifa summoned me before him, and informed me
that Nejumi had reported that Neufeld had been induced by the Government
to go and join Sheikh Saleh el Kabbashi, and assist him in fighting the
Mahdists. I explained that this could not possibly be true, and that
Neufeld's papers were all in order. Moreover, I said that the Government
would never have taken upon itself to do such a thing. For the time
being, I think he credited my explanation; but he revenged himself by
showing the most marked mistrust and contempt for me for some time.

A few days afterwards, the Khalifa held a great review; and Neufeld,
whose feet were in irons, was mounted on a camel, and taken to see it.
The Khalifa asked him what he thought of his troops; and he replied
that, although they were very numerous, they were not well trained, and
that the discipline in the Egyptian army was much better. The Khalifa,
who did not appreciate candid speaking, at once had him sent back to
prison.

Osman Wad Adam, who had received the Khalifa's orders either to capture
or kill Saleh Kabbashi, now sent an expedition under Fadlalla Aglan; and
Greger, Sheikh of the Hamada Arabs, was given to him as a guide. The
latter was well known to be Saleh's mortal enemy. The Kababish had
quitted the wells of the Hamada, and had moved eastward into the desert,
in order to await the arrival of the caravan sent to Wadi Halfa; and
now, when the disaster which had overtaken it became known, several of
the tribesmen whom Saleh had collected dispersed, and many returned to
Omdurman. Saleh, now deprived of all hope of assistance from his own
countrymen, was no longer able to make any determined opposition. He
therefore fled, with his family and near relatives, but was overtaken at
a well and killed. On the approach of his enemies, he bowed to his
destiny; and, seated on a sheepskin which had been spread on the ground
for him by his slaves, he patiently awaited death. His enemy, Greger,
jumping off his horse, approached him, and blew out his brains with his
pistol. Thus ended the last of the Sheikhs faithful to Government.

About the middle of June, news arrived that Abu Anga had reached the
Nile at Tura el Hadra with an army of between nine and ten thousand men,
all armed with rifles, and about an equal number of cavalry. It was
expected that he would be at Omdurman about the end of the month. The
Khalifa used frequently to ride out to the lines near Tabia Regeb Bey,
and employ himself pointing out the limits which the camp should occupy;
and, on these occasions, I used to accompany him on foot. During one of
these excursions, I cut my foot when walking by the Khalifa's side, and
could scarcely proceed. Seeing me limping, and my foot bleeding
profusely, he dismounted at Fadl el Maula's house, and called me up
before him, praised me for my perseverance, and gave me the horse which
Fadl el Maula himself had presented to him, telling me that in any
future rides I could mount it, and, as usual, remain near him.

Towards the end of June, Abu Anga arrived, and, when about two hours
distant from Omdurman, pitched his camp. That night, the Khalifa
received him alone in his house, no witnesses being present. The
conference lasted till long past midnight; and then Abu Anga returned
to his camp. At dawn the next morning, the beating of war-drums and the
sound of the ombeÿa proclaimed that the Khalifa intended to be present
on the entry of Abu Anga's army into Omdurman. Just after sunrise, he
rode out, accompanied by all his Emirs and an immense crowd, to the
parade ground, at the east end of which a tent had been pitched. Khalifa
Abdullahi, the other Khalifas, and the Kadis now entered this tent; and,
soon after, the approach of Abu Anga and his army was heralded by the
sound of trumpets and drums. The entire force passed the Khalifa twice
in review; and he was delighted with the immense number of the troops.
Summoning the Emirs before him, he called down God's blessing on their
heads, and then ordered them to take their troops to the allotted
camping ground. Now followed a period of the wildest debauchery, in
which his soldiers and subjects squandered the booty taken in Kordofan
at weddings and banquets; in so doing, they deviated widely from the
stringent orders of the Mahdi in such matters; but this did not seem to
displease the Khalifa.

Abu Anga himself, who had brought considerable sums of money, as well as
quantities of male and female slaves, for his master and his brother
Yakub, now distributed presents freely amongst his friends and
acquaintances. He sent me my old servant and his wife; but he did not
return my other servants, horses, and effects which had been taken from
me during my imprisonment.

A few weeks afterwards, the Khalifa celebrated the Feast of Bairam on
the largest scale I have ever seen. Hundreds of thousands of the
faithful repeated prayers with the Khalifa on the parade ground; and he
then returned in state to his house, under the thunder of guns and the
wildest acclamations of his subjects, who crowded through the streets in
such numbers that several were killed and trampled under foot by the
horses.

The Emir Merdi Abu Rof, of the Gehéna tribe, now received instructions
to come with all his tribe and cattle to Omdurman; but, having refused
to obey the summons, it was decided that he should be punished, and
made an example to others. A large portion of Abu Anga's army, under the
orders of Zeki Tummal, Abdalla Wad Ibrahim, and Ismail Delendok, was
ordered to march against them and destroy them. The Gehéna tribe,
generally called by the Arabs the Abu Rof, and celebrated for their
thoroughbred horses and camels, were also known to possess very fine
male and female slaves. The well known proverb, "Gehéna el Ol--Ashra fi
Sol" (There are ten Gehéna children to every man), faithfully
represented the tribe. In the fighting which ensued, their Emirs, Merdi
Abu Rof and Mohammed Wad Melek, fell, as well as their former Sheikh,
and the greater part of the tribe was annihilated. The finest of the
young women and children captured were selected and sent as presents to
the Khalifa; but the remainder were brought to Omdurman, where they eked
out a miserable existence by becoming water-carriers, or makers of straw
mats. Their great herds of cattle went for almost nothing in the
bazaars; and the price of an ox or a camel, which formerly varied
between forty and sixty dollars, fell to two or three dollars.

After the destruction of this tribe, Abu Anga received orders to proceed
from Omdurman to Gallabat, and take the command of the troops there.
Collecting the forces from the southern districts at Abu Haraz, he
proceeded to his destination, and arrived just in time to save Yunes.

One of Yunes's postmen had asserted that he was Saidna Isa (Jesus
Christ), and obtained a numerous following; many really believed in him,
whilst others were extremely dissatisfied with Yunes, who had become so
mercenary that he began to rob even his own people. Eleven of the
principal Emirs, amongst them the keeper of the ammunition stores, now
sided with Isa, and made a plot to assassinate Yunes; the day for
carrying it into execution had been actually arranged, when Abu Anga
suddenly arrived. His generous nature had given him many friends; and,
in a few days, he was fully informed of the whole affair, and instantly
arrested the conspirators. Yunes, utterly ignorant that any plot was
hatching, complained to Abu Anga about the arrest of his Emirs, and
asked for an explanation of his proceedings. "Because they intended to
murder you," was Abu Anga's simple reply. When the assassins were
brought before the Kadi, they did not deny their intentions; and their
leader declared most firmly that he was Jesus Christ, and that, in a
short time, this fact would be revealed to the world.

Abu Anga now despatched a special messenger to Omdurman for orders; and
the Khalifa, greatly alarmed, wished to keep the whole matter secret. He
summoned Yakub and Kadi Ahmed to consult with him; and it was agreed
that all the conspirators should be executed. I heard all about the
matter from Mohammed Wad esh Shertier, who had been forbidden the
Khalifa's house, and had orders to leave the same day for Gallabat. The
following day, however, the Khalifa changed his mind, having realised
that of the eleven Emirs, ten belonged to the powerful western tribes;
and not only would their loss to him be considerable, but he feared
their relatives and friends might turn against him. He therefore sent
camel-men, in hot haste, with a reprieve, and with orders that the
prisoners should be brought to Omdurman under escort. The camel-men,
however, failed to overtake Shertier who had had two days' start; and
they arrived in Gallabat to find the eleven bodies hanging on the
scaffold; all had died faithful to their Jesus Christ. Yunes, being a
relative of the Khalifa, only submitted to Abu Anga owing to his
superior force, but always looked upon him as his slave, though, as a
matter of fact, he was infinitely braver and more courageous. Yunes now
reproached him for having been precipitate, and from this episode arose
an estrangement between the two men, which ended in Yunes being recalled
to Omdurman, where he was commanded to perform his devotions daily in
the front row in the mosque.

[Illustration: An Abyssinian Scout.]

Abu Anga now collected all his forces, in order to revenge the defeat
of Wad Arbab. He had at his disposal the largest force which had ever
been collected by Khalifa Abdullahi: according to the rolls brought in,
he had upwards of fifteen thousand rifles, forty-five thousand spearmen,
and eight hundred cavalry; and quitting Gallabat with this force, he
marched through the Mintik (pass) towards Ras Adal. Up to this day, I
have failed to understand why the Abyssinians did not attack their enemy
whilst crossing the narrow passes and deep valleys, in which it would
have been most difficult to use fire-arms with effect; if they had not
succeeded in checking the advance in this manner, they would have at
least inflicted very heavy losses on the Dervishes. I can only conceive
that the Abyssinians made certain of their ultimate success, and
purposely enticed their enemies far into the country, with the object of
cutting off their retreat, and utterly annihilating them. Fighting began
on the plain of Debra Sin. Ras Adal had about two thousand rifles, and
had taken up a position threatening Abu Anga's left; but the latter had
sufficient time to clear the hills, and arrange his troops in battle
array. Attacked over and over again by the Abyssinians, the Dervishes
drove them off with frightful loss; and Abu Anga, taking the offensive,
succeeded in gaining a complete victory. So sure were the Abyssinians of
gaining the day, that they had taken up a position in front of a river;
and now many of them, in their flight, were drowned while attempting to
cross it. For a short time, the Abyssinian cavalry was to some extent
successful; but, after suffering considerable loss, they fled with Ras
Adal. The entire Abyssinian camp, consisting of quantities of tents,
fell into the hands of Abu Anga, who captured Ras Adal's wife and
grown-up daughter, and in this victory practically conquered the whole
of the Amhara Province. He advanced without delay on Gondar, where he
expected to find great treasures, but was disappointed; for, with the
exception of some goods belonging to the Geberta, and some large stores
of coffee, honey, and wax, which were of no value to him, as he had no
means of transport, he got practically nothing. In the large and lofty
stone building said to have been erected by the Portuguese, they found
one poor old Coptic priest, who was thrown out of the highest story into
the street below. Staying here only one day, Abu Anga ordered the town
to be fired, and, on his way back, attacked and looted villages right
and left, killing the men and seizing the women and children as
captives; the Geberta, and some little boys alone, were spared and
carried off as booty. In this manner thousands of Abyssinian women and
girls were driven in front of the army, urged on by the lash. On arrival
at Gallabat, a fifth of the loot was sent to the Khalifa, and several
hundred women were despatched to the Beit el Mal in Omdurman, where they
were sold to the highest bidders. The road between Gallabat and Abu
Haraz was strewn with corpses, and amongst them the daughter and young
son of Ras Adal.

Abu Anga, in accordance with the Khalifa's instructions, now began to
put Gallabat into a state of defence; for, in spite of the success just
gained, they knew that the Abyssinians would seek revenge. But he did
not long survive his victory; although only fifty-two years of age, he
suffered from constant illness, and was always trying to cure himself.
He had grown immensely stout, owing to the good living in which he
indulged, which contrasted greatly with what he had been formerly
accustomed to; he suffered much from indigestion, and used to treat
himself with a poisonous root which came from Dar Fertit. One day,
however, he took an overdose, and in the morning was found dead in his
bed. In him, the Khalifa lost his best Emir, who, though by descent a
slave, had, through his liberality and kindness, gained the affection of
all who knew him, as well as the esteem and regard of his subjects, who
admired his personal courage and sense of justice. He was mourned by his
entire force,--by Arabs as well as by Blacks,--who recognised in him a
strict though just master, and one who, though he punished very severely
any offences against his orders, was ever ready to help those in need.
He was buried in his red-brick house; and many of his servants and
slaves worshipped him as a saint.

At the same time that Abu Anga had left Omdurman for Gallabat, Osman Wad
Adam had received instructions to move with his whole force towards
Shakka and Darfur. At this time, a garrison was not required in
Kordofan: for Sheikh Saleh had been killed, and the land of the Gimeh
was deserted; the Gowama had been ordered to immigrate to Omdurman; and
the resistance of the southern mountains had been broken down by Abu
Anga. Karamalla, after having been driven back to Shakka, had
persistently demanded tribute from the Rizighat Arabs, who, however,
recognising that he was not all-powerful, rose as one man in mutiny
against him, and with such success that at length both Kerkesawi and
Karamalla, who were in want of ammunition, were practically besieged at
Shakka and Injileila. They now begged the Khalifa's help; and though the
latter had originally intended not to assist them, he was by no means
anxious to lose all his armed slaves. This was the reason for Osman Wad
Adam's despatch to Shakka. On arrival, he wrote letters to the Rizighat,
who were fighting rather personally against Karamalla than against the
Mahdist rule, ordering them to suspend hostilities, and promising that
he would give them justice. Fearful of Osman's power, they reluctantly
complied; but Karamalla, under the pretext of making peace negotiations,
enticed their Sheikh into his zariba, and there executed him. Osman now
moved forward by forced marches, not only on account of Karamalla, but
in fear of a mutiny on the part of Sultan Yusef, who, for a long time,
had sent no consignments of horses and slaves, and was evidently
beginning to feel himself sufficiently powerful to overturn the
Khalifa's authority.

Osman's arrival at Shakka relieved Karamalla and his garrison from a
very dangerous position; he then assured the Arabs, who were clamouring
for justice, that he would settle their case as soon as he had subdued
Darfur. His total force, including Karamalla's men, now numbered some
five thousand rifles, and with these he marched against Dara. He had
previously written to Sultan Yusef, ordering him to join him, and
informing him that in the event of his refusal, he would treat him as a
rebel. To this summons he received a reply that, as he had joined his
sworn enemy, Karamalla, it was impossible to come; at the same time,
news reached him that Sultan Yusef was concentrating his forces at
Fasher. On his arrival at Dara, Osman found the place deserted; but, on
the following day, he was attacked by Said Mudda, and only succeeded in
driving him off after a very closely contested fight. A week later, he
was again attacked by the Sultan's old vizir, Hussein Ibrahim, and Rahma
Gamo, who had collected Said Mudda's people, and had received
reinforcements as well; but these also were forced to retire. Osman now
marched on El Fasher. Had Sultan Yusef attacked him with his entire
force at Dara, he would in all probability have defeated him, and Darfur
would thus have been freed forever; but he had previously divided his
army, his vizirs were hated, and his own people had lost heart after
their recent defeats. A fight took place near Wad Berag, south of
Fasher; and Osman gained an easy victory. Sultan Yusef fled, but was
overtaken at Kebkebia and killed; whilst Fasher, in which all his wives
and relations had been collected, as well as a quantity of goods
belonging to Fezzan and Wadai merchants, also numbers of women and
children, fell into Osman's hands. Thus Darfur, which had been
practically lost to the Mahdists, was re-taken by them in the same month
(January, 1888), just at the time that Abu Anga had gained his great
victory over the Abyssinians. In this short campaign the Darfurians had
shown great fidelity to their native ruler; and Osman, fearing to expose
himself to continual difficulties by supporting their dynastic
sentiments, determined that all males of royal blood should either be
put in irons, executed, or sent to Omdurman, where they were placed
amongst the Khalifa's mulazemin, and treated as slaves.

All female members of the royal family were declared to be "Khums" (a
fifth of the booty), and put at the Khalifa's disposal. Some of these he
took into his own harem; and the remainder he distributed as "Suria"
(concubines) amongst his followers. He liberated, however, the two old
sisters of Sultan Ibrahim, namely, Miriam Isa Basi and Miriam Bakhita;
the latter was the wife of Kadi Ali, who was then in Omdurman.

Whilst these momentous events were transpiring in the east and west of
the Sudan Empire, the Khalifa governed the country at Omdurman in a most
tyrannical and despotic manner. He mistrusted every one. Numbers of
spies were employed by his brother Yakub; and their duty was to tell him
of everything that went on in the city. He was kept fully informed of
the general temper of the people; and should any persons express doubt
about the truth of the Mahdi's Divine mission, they were punished with
special severity. It happened, one day, that a sailor used some
irreverent expression regarding Mahdism, and was reported to the
Khalifa. The plaintiff, who was a fanatical Baggari, had, however, no
witnesses, those who were present at the time admitting to the Khalifa
that they were too far off to hear what passed; but the latter
determined to make an example. He therefore summoned the Kadi, and
ordered him to force a confession out of the accused, at the same time
advising him how to set about it. Two persons were then sent to the
prisoner, to apprise him that witnesses had been found; but that if he
made a confession of his own free-will, and admitted that he was sorry,
before the witnesses had been questioned, the Khalifa would mitigate his
sentence, and would probably pardon him. The poor man failed to see the
trap that had been laid for him, made a confession, and begged the
Khalifa's pardon. The confession was taken down in writing, and
submitted to Abdullahi, who ordered the sentence--which was
execution--to be carried out in accordance with the Mahdi's code. The
Khalifa, in giving sentence, said that had the insult been against his
own person, he would have forgiven him; but the prisoner, having sinned
against the Mahdi, he would be committing a crime if he mitigated it in
the slightest degree.

That afternoon, the Khalifa gave orders for the ombeÿa to be sounded,
while the dull beats of the great Mansura (war-drum) boomed through the
city, and he himself rode with an immense escort to the parade ground.
On his arrival, his sheepskin was spread on the ground; and on this he
sat, facing the east, whilst the Kadi and others stood behind him in a
semi-circle. He then ordered the accused to be brought before him.
Already his hands had been tied behind his back; but he showed not the
slightest signs of fear. When within a hundred paces of the Khalifa, he
was decapitated by Ahmed Dalia, the chief executioner.

Soon after this, a certain Fiki called Nur en Nebi (The Light of the
Prophet), who had collected a considerable number of disciples, preached
to them about the necessity for religious zeal, and urged them not to be
led away by innovations. Yakub reported this to the Khalifa, with the
result that the Fiki was at once arrested, and brought before the Kadi.
The necessary witnesses were procured; and the Fiki openly declared
before them that he was a good Mohammedan, but not a follower of the
Mahdi. By command of the Khalifa, the judges ordered him to be laden
with chains; his hands tied behind his back; and, under the deafening
shouts of the mob, he was dragged to the market-place, where he was
hanged on the scaffold erected there. I remember looking at the body,
whilst suspended from the gallows, and was struck by the calm and
smiling expression on the face of this man who had died for his
convictions. Several hundred houses, surrounding the abode of the
murdered man, were confiscated; their inmates arrested, bound, and
carried off to prison; but, through the intervention of Adlan, they were
subsequently liberated. The Khalifa now issued a proclamation to the
effect that all the inhabitants of the city were responsible for the
actions of their neighbours; and persons found involved in political or
religious intrigues were threatened with the most condign punishment.
On mere suspicion, several of the natives of the Nile valley were thrown
into chains, and deprived of all they possessed. Thus did he deal with
all suspected persons, and at the same time considerably enriched his
treasury.

[Illustration: A Slave Dhow on the Nile.]

On another occasion, he had a meeting of the Kadis, and told them, in
confidence, that, in his opinion, all vessels on the Nile were really
"Ghanima" (booty); for, as he truthfully remarked, whilst he was in
Kordofan, the owners had, in spite of his frequent appeals, invariably
refused to assist the Mahdi's cause. They had not only failed to attack
the Government steamers on the river, but had also frequently provided
the Government stations with grain and wood. Of course the Kadis fully
concurred in his opinion; and, the following morning, they received a
letter from Ibrahim Adlan, asking them whether all vessels were not
state property. The all-powerful judges replied in the affirmative,
supporting their answer by extracts from the Mahdi's code, according to
which the owners were to be considered Mukhalafin (obstinate persons).
This pamphlet was read publicly, in the presence of the Khalifa, who
remarked, in conclusion, that those vessels alone were exempt which did
not float, or which were not built of the wood of the forests, which
were all the property of the state. These vessels, numbering upwards of
nine hundred, of from twenty to five hundred ardebs carrying capacity,
now all passed into the possession of the Beit el Mal; and, as they were
almost without exception the property of Jaalin and Danagla, who lived
on the river, the means of support of these unfortunate people was
entirely gone. The boats were now utilised by Ibrahim Adlan to carry
cargoes of grain to the Beit el Mal; or they were hired out annually at
a high rate, to persons who were considered worthy of this confidence.

In order to show his veneration for the Mahdi, the Khalifa decided to
erect a monument to him, as is the custom in Egypt; but this he did
rather to satisfy his own vanity, than out of respect for his late
master. A square building was erected, some thirty feet high, and
thirty-six feet each way; and the stone for this construction, of which
the walls were upwards of six feet thick, had to be brought all the way
from Khartum. Above this a hexagonal wall fifteen feet high was built,
from which rose a dome forty feet high. On the corners of the main
building were four smaller domes. This was called Kubbet el Mahdi
(Mahdi's dome). It was furnished with ten large arched windows, and two
doors; and in the hexagonal portion were six skylights. It was
whitewashed all over, and surrounded by a trellis-work fence; the
windows and doors were made by the workmen in the Khartum arsenal; while
directly beneath the dome, and over the Mahdi's grave, a wooden
sarcophagus was erected, covered with black cloth. On the sides of the
walls, candelabra were hung; while, suspended by a long chain from the
centre of the dome, was an immense chandelier taken from the Government
palace in Khartum. The sombre appearance of the inside of the building
was relieved by some gaudy painting on the walls. A few yards from the
building is a small cistern, built of red bricks cemented together; and
this is used by the visitors for their religious ablutions. The plans
for this building were devised by an old Government official who had
been formerly employed as an architect; but, of course, public opinion
dutifully attributed the design to the Khalifa.

The ceremony of laying the foundation-stone of this building was
conducted with great unction by the Khalifa, who "turned the first sod."
Accompanied by a crowd of upwards of thirty thousand people, he
proceeded to the river bank, where the stones were heaped up, and,
lifting one of them on his shoulder, carried it to the spot, his example
being followed by every individual person in this vast assemblage; the
noise and confusion were perfectly indescribable. Numbers of accidents
happened; but those injured thought it fortunate to suffer on such an
occasion. The building was not completed till the following year, and
entailed a considerable amount of labour, though little expense; and,
during its construction, the Khalifa frequently asserted that angels
lent their assistance. An Egyptian, hearing this, and aware that many of
his compatriots were masons, was constrained to remark to them, "You are
probably the Khalifa's angels, and require neither food, drink, nor
payment." Had the Khalifa heard this, he would undoubtedly have removed
this wag's head.

[Illustration: The Mahdi's Tomb.]

As usual, I was always in close attendance on the Khalifa; and, as a
token of his good-will, he presented me with one of the Abyssinian girls
sent by Abu Anga. Her mother and brother had been killed before her
eyes; and the poor creature had been torn from their bodies, and driven
into captivity at the end of the lash. Although not treated as a slave
by my people, who did all they could to lighten her sad lot, she never
seemed bright or happy; she continually brooded over her losses and her
home, until, at length, death released her from her sufferings.
Occasionally Father Ohrwalder used to visit me secretly; but, as the
Khalifa did not approve of our meeting, his visits were few and far
between. We used to talk of our home, and of our present wretched
existence; but we never lost hope that, sooner or later, our captivity
would come to an end.

Abu Girga, who commanded at Kassala, was now ordered to proceed to Osman
Digna, and assist him in his fighting; leaving Ahmed Wad Ali as his
representative at Kassala, he was summoned to Omdurman to report to the
Khalifa on the state of the Arab tribes in the Eastern Sudan. He arrived
late one evening, and was at once received in long private audience by
the Khalifa; and, on withdrawing, hurriedly told me that he had given
him a letter from my family in Europe. A few minutes later, I was called
in, and informed that the Governor of Suakin has sent a letter to Osman
Digna, which was supposed to be from my family, and which he had sent
on. In handing me this letter, the Khalifa ordered me to open it at
once, and acquaint him with its contents. I glanced through it
hurriedly, and, to my intense grief and sorrow, saw that it was an
announcement from my brothers and sisters that my poor mother had died,
and that, on her death-bed, she had expressed an earnest hope that we
should all be re-united. The Khalifa, impatient that I took so long to
read it, again asked me who had written it, and what were its contents.
"It is from my brothers and sisters," I replied; "and I will translate
it to you." I had no reason to conceal its contents; it was merely a few
lines from distressed brothers and sisters to their distant brother. I
told him how disturbed they were about me; and how they were ready to
make any sacrifice in order that I should regain my liberty. When I came
to the part about my mother, it required all my self-control; I told him
that, owing to my absence, her death was not so peaceful as it might
have been, and that during her long illness, her constant prayer to God
had been that she might see me again. Her prayer, alas, had not been
answered; and now this letter had brought me her last greeting, and her
tender hopes for my welfare. My throat felt parched and dry, and had not
the Khalifa suddenly interrupted me, I must have broken down. "Your
mother was not aware that I honour you more than any one else," said he;
"otherwise she certainly would not have been in such trouble about you;
but I forbid you to mourn for her. She died as a Christian and an
unbeliever in the Prophet and the Mahdi, and cannot therefore expect
God's mercy." The blood rushed to my head; and, for a moment, I could
say nothing; but gradually regaining my self-control, I continued to
read on that my brother Henry was now married, and that Adolf and my
sisters were quite well. Finally, they begged me to let them know how I
could obtain my liberty, and urged me to write to them. "Write and tell
one at least of your brothers to come here," said the Khalifa, when I
had finished the letter. "I would honour him, and he should want for
nothing; but I will talk to you about this another time." He then signed
to me with his hand; and I withdrew.

My comrades, who had already heard that a letter had arrived for me,
were very inquisitive, and asked me all manner of questions; but I
answered them only briefly, and, as soon as the Khalifa had retired to
rest, I went home. I flung myself down on my angareb, and my servants,
much concerned, asked me what was the matter; but I told them to leave
me. "Poor mother, then it was I who made your last hours so unhappy!" My
brothers and sisters had written her last words: "I am ready to die; but
I should have loved to see and embrace my Rudolf once more. The thought
that he is in the hands of his enemies makes my departure from this
world very difficult for me." How well I remembered her words when I
left for the Sudan: "My son, my Rudolf, your restless spirit drives you
out into the world! You are going to distant and almost unknown lands. A
time, perhaps, will come when you will long for us, and a quiet life."
How true had been her words,--poor mother! How much trouble I must have
given her! And then I cried and cried,--not about my position, but for
my dear mother, who could never be replaced.

The next morning, the Khalifa sent for me, and again made me translate
the letter to him; and he ordered me to reply at once that I was
perfectly happy in my present position. I did as I was told, and wrote a
letter praising the Khalifa, and saying how happy I was to be near him;
but I put inverted commas against many words and sentences, and points
of exclamation, and wrote at the bottom of the letter that all words and
sentences thus marked should be read in exactly the opposite sense. At
the same time, I asked my brothers and sisters to write a letter of
thanks to the Khalifa in Arabic, and to send him a travelling-bag, and
to me two hundred pounds, and twelve common watches, suitable for
presents; as, on certain seasons of the year, the Emirs attended the
feasts in Omdurman, and would greatly appreciate them. I also asked them
to send me a translation of the Kuran in German, and advised them not to
worry for the present; but that I hoped to find some means of being
re-united to them. I told them to send the things, through the Austrian
Consul-General in Cairo, to the Governor of Suakin, by whom they would
be forwarded to Osman Digna. I handed this letter to the Khalifa, who
gave it to some postmen who were going to Osman Digna with instructions
to send it to Suakin.

About a month before I received the sad news of my mother's death, I had
to deplore the loss of one of my comrades in captivity, Lupton. He had
been working in the dock-yard at Khartum until recently; but the feeble
state of his health had obliged him to ask to be relieved from this
position. He had then returned to Omdurman, and had suffered great want;
but, to his relief, Saleh Wad Haj Ali, with whom he was on very friendly
terms, returned from Cairo, and brought him some money which he had
received from Lupton's family. Haj Ali naturally tried to make as much
money out of the transaction as he could. He had advanced a sum of a
hundred dollars to Lupton as a loan, receiving from him, in return, a
bill on his brother for two hundred pounds, which had been cashed on his
arrival in Cairo; and, returning again to Omdurman, had paid Lupton two
hundred dollars, keeping the remainder, about eight hundred dollars, for
himself. In spite of this robbery, this small sum delighted poor Lupton,
and helped him, for a short period, to stave off the miseries of living
like a beggar. He also rejoiced that a medium of communication had been
found with his relatives, whereby he eventually hoped to regain his
freedom. These hopes, alas, were not to be realised.

He had come home one Tuesday morning from the mosque with me, and was
consulting me as to whom he should entrust what remained of his two
hundred dollars, so as to obtain small sums when he required them, as it
was necessary for him to be most careful not to attract attention to
himself by spending large sums, and thus endanger his communication with
Egypt. We talked of home and of our present situation; and he seemed
more cheerful than usual, but complained of pains in his back, and of a
general feeling of indisposition. I left him about midday; and, on the
following Tuesday, he sent his servant to me, begging me to go and see
him, as he felt very ill. In reply to my question, the man told me that
his master was in a high fever, and had been in bed for three days. I
promised to come as quickly as possible, and, that evening, asked the
Khalifa's permission to go and see him. The next morning, having
obtained leave to spend that day with the invalid, I at once went to his
house, and found him in a dying condition. He was suffering from typhus
fever; and already the illness had reached such a stage that he scarcely
recognised me, and, in a few broken words, begged me to take care of his
daughter. He then said something about his father and mother; but he was
almost incoherent, and, at times, became quite unconscious. I
understood, however, that he was begging me to be the bearer of his
dying messages, should I ever succeed in escaping. On Wednesday, the 8th
May, 1888, he passed away at midday, without having recovered
consciousness. We washed him, wrapped him in a shroud, and, according to
the usual custom, carried him to the mosque, where the prayers for the
dead were recited; and then we buried him in a cemetery near the Beit el
Mal. Father Ohrwalder, the majority of the Greek colony, and a number of
natives who had learnt to love and respect his noble and unassuming
character, were present.

I obtained the Khalifa's permission to see to his household, and handed
over his money to a Greek merchant to take charge of for his daughter
Fanny, and thus save her from want. I also succeeded in getting a
situation at the arsenal for one of his Black boys whom he had educated,
and who receives pay up to the present time. Fanny's mother, Zenoba,
married, two years later, an Egyptian doctor named Haasan Zeki; and,
although I made frequent efforts to send her daughter to Europe to be
educated, my plans were always frustrated by the reluctance of mother
and daughter to separate. Under such circumstances, it can readily be
understood that the girl fell into a thoroughly Sudanese mode of life,
adopting their ways and customs, and looking upon herself as a native.
Had she gone to Europe,--and she could only have been sent there by
force,--the effort to lead a life to which she was utterly unsuited, and
away from her Black mother, would have made her miserable.

At this period of my narrative, the Khalifa was in a peculiarly good
humour. After the re-conquest of Darfur, he had given orders that
everything should be done to induce the Arab tribes to undertake
pilgrimages to Omdurman, and, if necessary, to force them to do so.
Osman Wad Adam had sent notice that the Khalifa's entire tribe,--the
Taaisha,--consisting of upwards of twenty-four thousand warriors, with
their wives and families, had decided to immigrate to Omdurman, and that
several of them had already reached El Fasher. Thus, at length, the
ardent wish of his heart--to gather his own tribe and relatives about
him, and make them masters of the situation--was accomplished.

Nejumi was now in Dongola with instructions to undertake offensive
operations against Egypt; but the final orders to move forward with the
main body were frequently postponed. His army, however, was increased,
from time to time, by the arrival of Emirs whom the Khalifa was anxious
to remove from Omdurman; and thus a fairly considerable force was
gradually accumulating on the northern frontier of the Mahdist Empire.

Osman Wad ed Dekeim, the brother of Yunes, was now sent to Berber, which
had hitherto been administered by a representative of the late Mohammed
Kheir; and, reinforced by six hundred cavalry, he took over the reins of
government. Thus another district fell under the sway of one of the
Khalifa's own relatives.




CHAPTER XIII.

THE ABYSSINIAN CAMPAIGN.

    Battle of Gallabat--Death of King John--The Revolt of Abu
    Gemmaiza--Defeats of the Mahdists--Death of Abu
    Gemmaiza--Preparations for the Invasion of Egypt--Execution of
    Sixty-seven Batahin Arabs--More Letters from Home--My Family
    send the Khalifa a Dressing-bag from Vienna--Immigration of the
    Taaisha Tribe--They settle in the Nile Valley--Nejumi advances
    into Egypt--Battle of Toski--Incidents during the Great
    Famine--The Fall of Ibrahim Adlan--His Execution--The Khalifa
    mistrusts me--I fall into Serious Danger--I become the Unwilling
    Recipient of the Khalifa's Favours.


It was not, however, to be supposed that the Mahdist victories in the
east and west would remain entirely undisputed. King John, who had been
carrying on a war in the interior, now determined to avenge the attack
on Gondar, and therefore resolved to march against Gallabat, and utterly
destroy the enemies of his country and religion. On Abu Anga's death,
the Khalifa appointed one of his former subordinates, Zeki Tummal of the
Taaisha tribe, to take the command and to complete the fortifications of
Gallabat, which had already been begun. During Abu Anga's lifetime, his
army had been divided into five parts, under the respective commands of
Ahmed Wad Ali, Abdalla Ibrahim, Hamdan (one of Abu Anga's brothers),
while Zeki himself commanded some two thousand five hundred mulazemin.
The force of Yunes still remained under the command of Ibrahim Dafalla.

King John now collected an immense army, and moved towards Gallabat. The
Dervishes were in great consternation, and did all they could to
strengthen their fortifications. King John's army was divided into two
portions: one division was made up of his own tribe, the Tigré, and
King Menelek's troops, under the command of Ras Alula; whilst the other
portion consisted of the Amhara legions under Ras Barambaras. Arriving
almost within range of Gallabat, they pitched their camp, and began the
attack the following morning. The lines of Gallabat, which were some
fifteen miles in circumference, were defended only at intervals by
Zeki's troops; and the Amhara leader, being well informed by spies, made
a determined attack on the western side, which was weakly held. After a
short resistance, they succeeded in penetrating; and the remainder of
the garrison were in the unpleasant position of having to defend
themselves from the outside, whilst, within, the enemy was pillaging the
town. Had the Amhara, instead of looting, attacked the garrison from the
rear, they would no doubt have succeeded in capturing the position; but
they concerned themselves only with pillaging and driving out of the
town thousands of women and children. King John, who was in his tent,
having received news that the Amhara, whom he had frequently accused of
cowardice, had succeeded in entering the lines, whilst his own tribe,
the Tigré, had failed, fell into a passion; and, ordering his followers
to carry him on his seat--a small gold angareb covered with cushions and
carpets--he was brought into the midst of the fighting line. The
defenders, noticing a crowd of followers clothed in velvet and gold,
directed their fire on them; and when King John had almost reached the
defences, he was struck by a bullet, which, breaking his right arm above
the elbow, entered his body. The courageous man, declaring that his
injury was of no consequence, continued urging on his men, but soon fell
back unconscious on his couch, and was carried to the rear by his
followers, who had suffered great loss. The news that he was wounded
spread amongst his troops like wildfire; and, though on the point of
success, they retired. On the evening of the 9th March, 1889, King John
expired in his tent. An effort was made to keep his death secret; but
the news gradually leaked out, and the Amhara, deserting the camp in
the night with all their loot, returned to their homes.

Ras Alula, being the most important of the Tigré chiefs, nominated Hailo
Mariam as their temporary ruler; but fearing the possibility of
dissensions breaking out amongst his unruly troops, he thought he had
better return to his country, and therefore ordered a retreat.

In fear and trembling, the Mahdists awaited the renewal of the
Abyssinian attack the next morning; but when the sun rose, they found,
to their surprise, that the white tents which had been visible the
previous day had disappeared. Zeki Tummal now sent out troops to
reconnoitre; and they returned with the joyful news that the Abyssinians
had retired. They had also learnt from the wounded that King John was
dead. A council was immediately held, and, as the enemy had carried off
a number of the Mahdist women and cattle,--amongst them much of the late
Abu Anga's property,--it was agreed that they should be pursued. The
Abyssinians had pitched their camp about half a day's journey from
Gallabat; already half the army was on the move; and Ras Alula, Hailo
Mariam, the temporary Negus, and other chiefs were on the point of
breaking up the camp, when they were suddenly attacked by the Dervishes.
Hailo Mariam was killed at the tent-door, within which lay King John's
body, already partly embalmed, in a wooden coffin. Ras Alula beat a
hurried retreat, leaving the camp in the hands of his enemies. The
Dervishes captured an immense amount of booty, including horses, mules,
arms, tents, coffee, etc.; they did not, however, succeed in
re-capturing the women, who had already been carried on ahead. In Hailo
Mariam's tent King John's crown was found. It is doubtful whether this
was the imperial Abyssinian crown, as it was made of silver gilt; his
sword also was taken, as well as a letter to him from Her Majesty the
Queen of England.

Neither the attack on Gallabat, nor the Dervish defeat of the rear-guard
the following day, had by any means broken the Abyssinian army; but,
owing to the accidental death of their king, the Dervish victory had
been most complete. The country now fell into a state of internecine
warfare; there were several aspirants for the throne, and dissensions
and quarrels put a stop to combined action. The Italians had been in
occupation of Massawa since the beginning of 1885, and had occupied some
of the adjacent country. This fact re-acted satisfactorily on the
Dervish occupation of Gallabat; for they were well aware that the
Abyssinians would be fully occupied with their European enemies; and
once more they began raiding the Amhara frontier.

Whilst the garrison of Gallabat was in danger of destruction at the
hands of King John, Osman Wad Adam was in considerable peril in the
west. On the death of Sultan Yusef, his troops raided the country in all
directions, and his Emirs were guilty of the greatest oppression and
cruelty. Thousands of women and children were declared to be ghanima
(booty), and dragged to Fasher by main force. The people were in
despair; and the distress and anguish extended to the limits of Dar
Tama. Here a youth resided who hailed from Omdurman, and probably
belonged to one of the riverain tribes, but had been driven from his own
home, and, under the shade of a wide spreading Gemmaiza (wild fig) tree,
sat and read the Kuran. He had intended proceeding to Bornu and the
Fellata country,--as far away as possible from the tyrannical
Sudan,--when some of the unfortunate people who had been robbed of all
they possessed, came and told him of their misfortunes. A party of
Dervishes, they said, had arrived at the neighbouring village, had
seized their cattle, and were about to carry them off, together with the
women and girls of the village, under the pretext that they had been
ordered to undertake a pilgrimage to Fasher, and had not done so. "If
you do not wish to fight for your wives and children, for what then will
you fight?" asked the young man. "Do you not know that he who falls
fighting for his women and children goes straight to Paradise?" The
effect of these words on the people resembled a spark falling into a
barrel of gunpowder. Hastening back to their village, they demanded the
instant liberation of their families; and when this was refused, they
fought for it. The Mahdists were annihilated; and the infuriated
villagers mutilated their bodies. Their example was followed by other
villages with equal success; and, in a few days, Dar Tama had shaken
itself free from its enemies. But who was the originator of this
movement which had already been so successful? It was the young man
under the Gemmaiza tree, who lived there as a hermit, subsisting only on
some dry bread and a little grain. A pilgrimage to see him was at once
organised; the people called him Abu Gemmaiza, adored him as a saint,
and looked upon him as the liberator of the fatherland.

The Emir Abdel Kader Wad Delil, who was then residing at Kebkebia, and
had heard of the massacre of his men, now advanced on Dar Tama,
determined to avenge it; but he was defeated, and barely escaped with
his life. Khatem Musa, on his way from Fasher, suffered a like fate.
Osman Wad Adam, furious at the losses he had sustained, resolved to
annihilate his enemies, and, with this object in view, despatched his
assistant, Mohammed Wad Bishara, and a large number of his mulazemin to
Kebkebia, to unite with Wad Delil and Khatem; but scarcely had he
arrived, when he was attacked by the hosts of Abu Gemmaiza, who were
marching on Fasher. Defeated with great loss, he fell back on that town.
Adam now fully realised the seriousness of the situation, and summoned a
council; several of the Emirs were for evacuating the province at once,
when the news suddenly arrived that Abu Gemmaiza was dead. As a matter
of fact, to the great good fortune of Fasher, he had been taken
seriously ill of small-pox at Kebkebia. The excited multitudes refused
either to return or disperse; and, electing his assistant as his
successor, they continued their advance on Fasher; but, in spite of
their former victories, their belief in their leader's success had waned
when he had fallen ill, and when he died, it vanished altogether.

Osman Wad Adam had taken up a position in the south end of the city; and
when the rebels advanced to the attack, they were driven back to Rahad
Tendelti with fearful loss. Abu Gemmaiza's successor was killed, and his
troops, dispersing in all directions, were pursued and slaughtered. The
whole country seemed covered with dead bodies; but Fasher and Darfur
were saved. There is a curious coincidence in the dates of these
momentous occurrences in the East and West Sudan: the previous year,
both armies had advanced--the one to Darfur and the other to Abyssinia;
both had been attacked by their enemies in their fortifications--the one
by King John, and the other by Abu Gemmaiza, in the same month; and both
had been unexpectedly successful.

Previous, however, to these occurrences, the Khalifa had again directed
his attention towards Egypt. He had questioned several persons regarding
the country; and they had excited in him an avaricious longing for the
grand palaces, large gardens, and immense harems of white women (he
himself had Black in abundance). Of course the most suitable man to
undertake operations against Egypt was Nejumi. He was an exceptionally
brave man, and, when a simple merchant, had travelled a great deal, knew
the country well, and, moreover, was an ardent devotee to the cause of
Mahdism, to which he had won over great numbers. The greater part of his
force consisted of tribesmen of the Nile valley; many had seen Egypt,
and had until recently much intercourse with the frontier tribes of
Upper Egypt. Such were the outward and visible reasons which the Khalifa
brought forward when selecting the chief; but, in reality, he was well
aware that a campaign against Egypt was a serious undertaking; and, on
this account, he was anxious not to involve in it his own relatives, and
the western tribes who were his special adherents. Nejumi, therefore,
with his Jaalin and Danagla, and a proportion of Baggaras, formed the
expedition; but the two former, being followers of the Khalifa Sherif,
Abdullahi always looked upon as his secret enemies. Should the campaign
be successful,--and he never for a moment doubted the capacity and
devotion of its leader,--then so much the better, he would have
conquered a new country; but should the Egyptian troops succeed in
repelling the invasion, then the remnant of his defeated forces would
retire on Dongola, with heavy loss, and would be so far weakened as to
be unworthy of further consideration.

He therefore despatched Yunes Wad ed Dekeim as Emir of the Dongola
Province, and to hold the country, whilst Nejumi was to receive his
orders from Yunes, and proceed with the advanced troops. The Dongola
Province, at this period, it must be remembered, was entirely under
Baggara domination. Amongst the reinforcements despatched thence were
Ahmed Wad Gar en Nebbi and some of the Batahin tribesmen, who came from
the country north of the Blue Nile, between the Shukria district and the
river. Many of this tribe had been previously despatched to Dongola and
Berber; and now the few who were left refused to comply with the
Khalifa's orders, in consequence of which Gar en Nebbi had deserted,
and, being pursued, had wounded one of the Khalifa's men. Abdullahi,
indignant at this disregard of his orders, had despatched Abdel Baki,
accompanied by Taher Wad el Obeid, to seize by force all the Batahin;
the latter now fled in all directions, but, with the exception of a very
few, were captured. During the pursuit Abdel Baki, guided by Wad el
Obeid, suffered severely from thirst; and this he imputed to the
ill-will of the latter, who, in consequence, was deprived of his
position and thrown into chains at Omdurman. Abdel Baki now brought in
sixty-seven men of the Batahin, with their wives and children. This
tribe was celebrated for its bravery during the Government days; and now
the Khalifa, who had already privately given his views on the matter to
the judges, ordered them to be summoned before the Court. It was
unanimously decided that the Batahin were mukhalefin (disobedient). "And
what is the punishment for disobedience?" asked the Khalifa. "Death,"
was the reply of the judges. They were sent back to prison, and the
Khalifa busied himself with carrying the sentence into execution. In
accordance with his orders, three scaffolds were immediately erected in
the market-place, and, after midday prayers, the ombeÿa was sounded and
the great war-drum was beaten, summoning all the Khalifa's subjects to
follow him. Riding to the parade ground, he dismounted and seated
himself on a small angareb, whilst his followers collected around him,
some sitting and some standing. The sixty-seven Batahin were now brought
before him, with their hands tied behind their backs, escorted by Abdel
Baki's men, whilst their unfortunate wives and children ran after them
crying and screaming. The Khalifa gave instructions that the women and
children were to be separated from the men, and, summoning Ahmed ed
Dalia, Taher Wad el Jaali, and Hassan Wad Khabir, consulted them in an
undertone; the latter then went forward to the Batahin, and instructed
the escort and prisoners to follow them to the market-place. After a
delay of a quarter of an hour, the Khalifa got up, and we all walked on
behind him. Arrived at the market-place, a terrible scene awaited us.

The unfortunate Batahin had been divided into three parties, one of
which had been hanged, a second had been decapitated, and a third had
lost their right hands and left feet. The Khalifa himself stopped in
front of the three scaffolds, which were almost broken by the weights of
the bodies, whilst close at hand lay a heap of mutilated people, their
hands and feet lying scattered on the ground; it was a shocking
spectacle. They did not utter a sound, but gazed in front of them, and
tried to hide from the eyes of the crowd the terrible sufferings they
were enduring. The Khalifa now summoned Osman Wad Ahmed, one of the
Kadis, who was an intimate friend of Khalifa Ali, and a member of the
Batahin tribe; and pointing to the mutilated bodies, he said to Osman,
"You may now take what remains of your tribe home with you." The poor
man was too shocked and horrified to be able to answer.

[Illustration: The Execution of the "Batahin."]

After riding round the scaffolds, the Khalifa proceeded along the street
leading to the mosque; and here Ahmed ed Dalia had been continuing his
bloody work; twenty-three decapitated bodies lay stretched along the
roadside; these unfortunates had calmly met their death, submitting to
the inevitable. Several of them, as is the custom amongst the Arabs, had
given proof of their courage by uttering a few sentences, such as:
"Death is ordained for every one." "See! to-day is my holy day." "He who
has not seen a brave man die, let him come and look here." Each one of
these sixty-seven men had met his death heroically. The Khalifa's work
was done; he was satisfied with it, and rode home. On his arrival there,
by way of an act of clemency, he sent one of his orderlies with
instructions that the women and children of the murdered men should be
set free; he might just as well have distributed them as slaves.

In spite of all these horrors, I was secretly rejoicing, for I had heard
that letters from home were on their way; not only were there letters,
but I had also been told, confidentially, by some merchants who had come
from Berber, that there were two boxes of money for me. I scarcely dared
think about it, and to wait patiently was no easy matter. One morning,
whilst I was sitting at the door, a camel laden with two boxes was
brought up; and the man asked to be taken before the Khalifa, saying
that he had arrived with letters and goods from Osman Digna. The
Khalifa, being apprised of this, ordered the boxes to be sent to the
Beit el Mal, and the letters to be given to his clerks. I was wild with
impatience; but it was the Khalifa's pleasure not to summon me till
after sunset, and then he handed me the letters. They were, as I
expected, from my brothers and sisters, expressing their great delight
at having at last received news direct from me. One letter was written
in Arabic, and addressed to the Khalifa, and contained profuse thanks to
him for his kindness to me, recommending me to him for further
assurances of his good-will, for which they sent many expressions of
gratitude. This letter, which had been written by Professor Dahrmund,
was composed in such flattering terms that the Khalifa had it read aloud
the same evening in the mosque; and so gratified was he, that he ordered
the boxes to be made over to me. Meanwhile, I translated to him my
letters, which contained only private and personal information, and in
which my brothers and sisters told me they had sent a travelling-bag for
the Khalifa in token of their devotion to him, begging him to accept
this trifling present, which was quite unworthy of his exalted position.
He expressed his readiness to accept it, and ordered me to bring it to
him the next morning. He then sent two of his people, so that the boxes
might be opened in their presence; and, late that night, we went to the
Beit el Mal, and there opened them. They contained £200, twelve ordinary
watches, some razors and looking-glasses, some newspapers, a German
translation of the Kuran, and the Khalifa's present. These things were
all handed over to me; and, having read my letters once again, I
literally devoured the newspapers. News from home!

There were only a few numbers of the "Neue Freie Presse," but quite
sufficient to afford me, who had had no news for six years, the pleasure
of reading at night-time for months. I gradually got to know them by
heart, from the political leader down to the last advertisement, in
which an elderly maiden lady advertised that she was anxious to find a
kindred spirit with a view to matrimony. Father Ohrwalder came to me
secretly by night to borrow the papers, and studied them just as
conscientiously as I did,--only I do not suppose that he paid quite so
much attention to the last advertisement!

Early the next morning, taking the present with me, I went to the
Khalifa; he told me to open it, and when he saw all the little crystal
boxes, silver-topped bottles, brushes, razors, scissors, etc., etc., he
was greatly surprised. I had to explain to him their various uses; and
he then sent for the Kadis, who, in duty bound, were obliged to express
even greater astonishment than he, though I had no doubt that several of
them had seen such things before. Then, without any further delay, he
sent for his clerk, and ordered him to write a letter to my brothers and
sisters, in which he himself informed them of the honourable position I
held in his service; he invited them to come to Omdurman and visit me,
and gave them the assurance that they would be free to return. He also
ordered me to write in the same strain; and, although I knew perfectly
well that my people would never avail themselves of such an invitation,
which was merely a spontaneous outburst of delight, I took good care to
warn them fully against thinking of it for an instant. The letters were
then returned by the man who had been sent by Osman Digna; and the
latter was instructed by letter to forward them. The real reason,
however, for the Khalifa's good-humour lay in the fact that his own
tribe, the Taaisha, had arrived in Omdurman. They had marched through
Kordofan to the White Nile at Tura el Hadra. The Khalifa had written to
them that they should come to take possession of the countries which the
Lord their God had ordained to be theirs; and on their arrival they
certainly behaved as if they were sole masters. They appropriated
everything they could lay their hands on: camels, cows, and donkeys were
forcibly carried off from their owners; men and women who had the
misfortune to cross their path, were robbed of their clothing and
jewellery; and the populations of the countries through which they
passed bitterly rued the day which had made a western Arab their ruler.
For their convenience, the Khalifa erected immense grain depôts all
along the roads by which they travelled; and, on their arrival at the
river, ships and steamers were ready to transport them to Omdurman. But,
before they reached the city, the Khalifa ordered them to halt on the
right bank of the river; and, dividing them into two sections, he had
all the men and women freshly clothed at the expense of the Beit el Mal;
and they then were brought in detachments, at intervals of two or three
days, to Omdurman. In order to make the populace thoroughly understand
that the new masters of the country had arrived, Abdullahi drove out of
their houses all the inhabitants of that portion of the city lying
between the mosque and Omdurman Fort, and handed it over to the Taaisha
as their residence. Other ground was allotted to those who had been
forced to give up their houses, and they were promised assistance from
the Beit el Mal in order to rebuild; but, of course, this was mere empty
form, and resulted in their having to shift entirely for themselves.

In order to facilitate the maintenance of his tribe, and as grain began
to rise in price, the Khalifa issued an order for all grain stored in
the houses to be taken to the meshra el minarata (grain docks), under
pain of confiscation; and, having obtained the services of some of his
own myrmidons, he ordered them to sell this grain at the lowest possible
rate to the Taaisha; and the money thus obtained he divided amongst the
original owners, who, in their turn, were obliged to re-purchase at the
high rates from other sources. This wholesale robbery can be better
understood, when I explain that the money paid by the Taaisha for ten
ardebs of grain would scarcely pay for two ardebs purchased in the
ordinary manner.

When the supply of grain at Omdurman was diminishing, he despatched
messengers to the Gezira to confiscate what was still there; and, in
this manner, by publicly showing his preference for his own tribe, he
completely estranged himself from his former followers. This, however,
was a matter of little concern to him, as, by the advent of the Taaisha
Arabs, he had acquired a reinforcement of several thousands of warriors.

After the Mahdi's death, the Khalifa had sent four messengers to Cairo
with letters addressed to Her Majesty the Queen of England, His Majesty
the Sultan, and His Highness the Khedive, in which he summoned them to
submit to his rule and to adopt Mahdism. The messengers returned from
Cairo, where due note had been made of this insolent demand, without any
answer; and the Khalifa was greatly offended. Early in 1889, however,
when he had decided to send Nejumi to invade Egypt, he again despatched
four messengers to Egypt, conveying his final warning; but these were
kept for a time at Assuan, and again sent back without any answer.

The campaigns in the east and west having been successfully concluded,
the revolt of Abu Gemmaiza having been suppressed, and King John of
Abyssinia having been killed, and his head despatched with others to
Omdurman, the Khalifa now sent it to Yunes at Dongola to be forwarded by
him to Wadi Halfa, as a warning, and as a proof of his victory over all
those who refused to believe in the Mahdi. Having overcome his
difficulties, and being strengthened by the arrival of fresh contingents
of Arabs, the Khalifa now considered that the time had come when he
might venture an attack on Egypt, and conquer it. Consequently, Nejumi
received special instructions to start forthwith, with all under his
command; and, avoiding Wadi Halfa, to capture Assuan, and there await
further orders. In addition to his own followers, Nejumi had been
reinforced by the Batahin, the Homr, and other Arabs of whom the Khalifa
was anxious to rid himself; and with these he quitted Dongola early in
May, 1889. Meanwhile, the Egyptian Government had been kept well
informed of the advance of this ill-equipped force, and had taken all
precautions; whilst Nejumi, instead of material support, received
continual orders from Yunes to hurry on; and it was not till he had
arrived within the Egyptian frontier that some reinforcements of Jaalin,
under Haj Ali, reached him. At the village of Argin, a portion of his
troops, contrary to his orders, had descended from the desert high
ground to the river, and, coming in contact with the troops of the Wadi
Halfa garrison under Wodehouse Pasha, sustained considerable loss.

Meanwhile, Grenfell Pasha, Sirdar of the Egyptian Army, having started
with a force from Assuan, wrote a letter to Nejumi, in which he pointed
out the danger of the situation, and how impossible it was for him to
hope to be successful. He therefore summoned him to surrender; but this
Nejumi stubbornly refused to do; and a battle ensued at Toski, in which
General Grenfell and the Egyptian army utterly annihilated the Mahdists.
Nejumi and almost all of his Emirs were killed; thousands were taken
prisoners; and only a very few succeeded in escaping back to Dongola.

The Khalifa had ridden to the Beit el Mal, and was praying on the banks
of the Nile, when mounted men arrived in hot haste from Dongola, and
handed letters to his secretary, who, for the moment, suppressed the
news, and only read it to him when he returned home. The letters
described the death of Nejumi and the destruction of his army; and the
effect on the Khalifa was terrible. He had no great confidence, it is
true, in the tribes who had gone forward to invade Egypt; but, at the
same time, their annihilation was a frightful blow to him. He had hoped
that they would either have been victorious, or would have beaten a safe
retreat; but now he had lost upwards of sixteen thousand of his men; and
he at once thought the Government would advance and re-occupy Dongola.
For three days he did not go near his harem; and, day and night, I was
obliged to stay at his door and pretend to sympathise with him in these
occurrences, though secretly I was rejoicing. He at once despatched
reinforcements to Yunes; but, at the same time, sent him instructions
that, should the Government advance, he should not attempt to oppose the
army, but was to retreat with his entire force to Sannum, in Dar
Shaigia.

But disasters never come singly: grain rose daily in price. No rain had
fallen the previous year, and the crops in consequence had been very
bad; the parties who had been sent to the Gezira had orders to procure
grain by force at the rate fixed by the Khalifa. Of course those who had
any at once hid it, and denied having anything; but in truth there was
really very little in the land. Famine first broke out in the Province
of Berber, which was entirely dependent on the Gezira for supplies; and
here Osman Wad ed Dekeim was obliged to disperse his men and horses
throughout various parts of the country.

The irrigation of this province is carried on by water-wheels at
intervals along the river banks; and even in prosperous times the supply
of grain is scarcely sufficient to meet the wants of the local
inhabitants; there was therefore now considerable difficulty in
maintaining all Osman's people as well. Several of the inhabitants
wandered to Omdurman, which was already over-populated; and here the
situation became most critical: the price of grain rose at first to
forty dollars, and subsequently to sixty dollars, the ardeb. The rich
could purchase grain; but the poor died wholesale. Those were terrible
months at the close of 1889; the people had become so thin that they
scarcely resembled human beings,--they were veritably but skin and bone.
These poor wretches would eat anything, no matter how disgusting,--skins
of animals which had long since dried and become decayed, were roasted
and eaten; the strips of leather which form the angareb (native
bedstead) were cut off, boiled, and made into soup. Those who had any
strength left went out and robbed; like hawks they pounced down on the
bakers and butchers, and cared nothing for the blows of the kurbash,
which invariably fell on their attenuated backs.

On one occasion, I remember seeing a man who had seized a piece of
tallow, and had crammed it into his mouth before its owner could stop
him. The latter jumped at his throat, closed his hands round it, and
pressed it till the man's eyes protruded; but he kept his mouth tightly
closed until he fell down insensible. In the market-places, the
incessant cry was heard of "Gayekum! Gayekum!" (He is coming to you!),
which meant that famished creatures were stealthily creeping round the
places where the women had their few articles for sale, to protect which
they were frequently obliged to lie upon them, and defend them with
their hands and feet. The space between the Khalifa's and Yakub's houses
was generally crowded at night with these wretched people, who cried
aloud most piteously for bread. I dreaded going home; for I was
generally followed by several of these famished beggars, who often
attempted to forcibly enter my house; and at that time I had scarcely
enough for my own slender wants, besides having to help my own household
and my friends, who had now become wretchedly poor.

One night,--it was full moon,--I was going home at about twelve o'clock,
when, near the Beit el Amana (ammunition and arms stores), I saw
something moving on the ground, and went near to see what it was. As I
approached, I saw three almost naked women, with their long tangled hair
hanging about their shoulders; they were squatting round a quite young
donkey, which was lying on the ground, and had probably strayed from its
mother, or been stolen by them. They had torn open its body with their
teeth, and were devouring its intestines, whilst the poor animal was
still breathing. I shuddered at this terrible sight, whilst the poor
women, infuriated by hunger, gazed at me like maniacs. The beggars by
whom I was followed, now fell upon them, and attempted to wrest from
them their prey; and I fled from this uncanny spectacle.

On another occasion, I saw a poor woman who must formerly have been
beautiful, but on whose emaciated face the death-struggle was visible,
lying on her back in the street, whilst her little baby, scarcely a year
old, was vainly trying to get some nourishment from its mother's already
cold breasts. Another woman, passing by, took compassion on the little
orphan, and carried it off.

One day, a woman of the Jaalin, who are perhaps the most moral tribe in
the Sudan, accompanied by her only daughter, a lovely young girl,
dragged herself wearily to my house; both were at death's door from
starvation, and begged me to help them. I gave them what little I could;
and the woman then said, "Take this, my only daughter, as your slave;
save her from death by starvation!" and, as she said this, the tears
streamed down her poor wan cheeks, whilst in her weak, scarcely audible
voice, she continued, "Do not fear that I shall molest you any further;
only save her; do not let her perish!" I gave them all I could spare,
and then asked them to leave me, telling them to return when they were
in great want; but I never saw them again,--perhaps some charitable
person took pity on them. Another woman was actually accused of eating
her own child, and was brought to the police station for trial; but of
what use was this?--in two days the poor creature died, a raving maniac!

[Illustration: Famine Stricken.]

Several sold their own children, both boys and girls, pretending they
were their slaves,--this they did not to obtain money, but simply to
save their lives; and, when this year of misery was over, some parents
bought them back again at even higher prices. The dead lay in the
streets in hundreds; and none could be found to bury them. The Khalifa
issued orders that people were responsible for burying those who were
found dead near their houses; and that, should they refuse to do so,
their property would be confiscated. This had some effect; but, to save
themselves trouble, they used to drag the bodies near their neighbours'
houses; and this gave rise to frequent quarrels and brawls. Every day,
the waters of the Blue and White Niles swept past Omdurman, carrying
along hundreds of bodies of the wretched peasantry who had died along
the banks,--a terrible proof of the awful condition of the country.

In Omdurman itself, the majority of those who died belonged rather to
the moving population, than to the actual inhabitants of the town; for
the latter had managed to secrete a certain amount of grain, and the
different tribes invariably assisted each other; but, in other parts of
the Sudan, the state of affairs was considerably worse. I think the
Jaalin, who are most independent, as well as the proudest tribe in the
Sudan, suffered more severely than the rest; several fathers of
families, seeing that escape from death was impossible, bricked up the
doors of their houses, and, united with their children, patiently
awaited death. I have no hesitation in saying that in this way entire
villages died out.

The inhabitants of Dongola, though they suffered considerably, were
somewhat better off; and for this they had to thank Nejumi, whose
departure had considerably reduced the population of the province.
Between Abu Haraz, Gedaref, and Gallabat, the situation was worst of
all. Zeki Tummal, at the commencement of the famine, had given orders to
some of his myrmidons to forcibly collect all the grain in the
neighbourhood; and this he stored for his soldiers, thus saving the bulk
of his force, with the result that an immense proportion of the local
inhabitants died of starvation. After a time, no one dared to go out
into the streets without an escort; for they feared being attacked and
eaten up; the inhabitants had become animals,--cannibals! One of the
Emirs of the Homr tribe,--who, in spite of the terrible year, still
preserved a fairly healthy appearance,--notwithstanding constant
warning, insisted on going to visit a friend after sunset; but he never
reached his friend, nor returned to his abode; the next morning, his
head was found outside the city, and I presume his body had already been
consumed.

The Hassania, Shukria, Aggaliun, Hammada, and other tribes had
completely died out; and the once thickly populated country had become a
desert waste. Zeki Tummal sent a detachment of his force to the southern
districts of the Blue Nile, towards the Tabi, Begreg, Kukeli,
Kashankero, and Beni Shangul mountains, the inhabitants of which,
although they paid tribute to the Khalifa, refused to make a pilgrimage
or provide warlike contingents. This he had done not so much with the
idea of military operations, as to provide some means of maintaining his
troops; but the commander, Abder Rasul, succeeded in capturing a number
of slaves, as well as a quantity of money.

The situation in Darfur was little better than that in Gedaref and
Gallabat; the western provinces, such as Dar Gimr, Dar Tama, and
Massalit, had no need of grain; but not being in complete subjection,
they prevented its export to Fasher. Indeed, it seemed as if this famine
had come as Heaven's punishment on all districts owning subjection to
the Khalifa, whilst the neighbouring countries, which had had sufficient
rest to cultivate their fields, had acquired enough grain for their
maintenance. A few Omdurman merchants hired some vessels, and proceeded
to Fashoda, where they exchanged beads, copper rods, and money for
dhurra; the undertaking succeeded, and now crowds of others followed
their example, proceeding sometimes as far as the Sobat, whence they
imported quantities of grain, thus enriching themselves, and saving
their fellow-countrymen from terrible want. Had the King of Fashoda, who
was not then subject to the Khalifa, forbidden the export, half Omdurman
would have perished. At length, the rain fell; the thirsty land was
refreshed; the crops sprang up; harvest was near; and the whole country
once more rejoiced at the prospect of help and deliverance. But now the
atmosphere became obscure with swarms of locusts of an unusual size, and
the prospect of a rich harvest vanished; everything, however, was not
destroyed by this plague, which, from that date, has become one of
annual occurrence. The Khalifa, anxious for the welfare of his own
tribe, now forced the natives to sell the little grain they had
collected, at an absurdly low price, to his agents; but small as this
was, in comparison with the price he ought to have paid, he determined
to still further economise, and, consequently, ordered Ibrahim Adlan to
proceed personally to the Gezira, and induce the inhabitants to give up
their dhurra of their own free-will, and without payment. Adlan, who
thoroughly disapproved of this measure, now left; and his enemies,
seizing the occasion of his absence, did all they could to bring about
his fall. This able official had, by his thoroughness and sagacity,
risen high in the Khalifa's favour; but ambition induced him to strive
for the first place. He frequently made use of his position to upset the
plans of others; but, in reality, Abdullahi sought nobody's advice, and
discussed state affairs with his brother Yakub only, whose animosity
Adlan had incurred, though Yakub was too clever to show it.

As natives go, Adlan's character was good: he did not care to lend
himself to evil designs, and, far from oppressing people, was often the
means of lightening the burdens of others; he was most liberal and
well-disposed to those who were submissive to his will; but he was
bitterly hostile to those he suspected of finding fault with his
actions, or who endeavoured to obtain appointments and positions without
his intervention. Like all Sudanese, he was bent on making money by fair
means or foul; and as he was head of the Beit el Mal, through whose
hands all the taxes passed, this was not a matter of difficulty. He was
suspected, and not without reason, of having made an immense fortune,
and of this the Khalifa was not ignorant; consequently, during his
absence, Yakub and several of his confidants informed the Khalifa that
Adlan's influence in the country was almost as great as his own, and
that he had frequently spoken disparagingly of his master and his system
of government; they even went as far as to say that Adlan had attributed
the famine entirely to the Khalifa's treatment of his own tribe.

Adlan, who was somewhat slow in carrying out the Khalifa's instructions
in the Gezira, and against whom the Taaisha were clamouring bitterly,
was recalled by the Khalifa, who, for the first few days after his
arrival, did not show his hand; but when the Taaisha, instigated by
Yakub, continued clamouring, the Khalifa summoned him, and accused him
in harsh terms of infidelity and abuse of confidence. Furious at this
treatment, and trusting to the confidential nature of his position,
Adlan, for a moment, forgot that after all he was merely the Khalifa's
slave, and retorted in equally sharp terms, "You reproach me now," said
he,--"I who have served you all these years; and now I do not fear to
speak my mind to you. Through preference for your own tribe, and your
love of evil-doing, you have estranged the hearts of all those who have
hitherto been faithful to you. I have ever been mindful of your
interests; but as you now listen to my enemies, and to your brother
Yakub, who is ill-disposed towards me, I cannot serve you any longer."

The Khalifa, alarmed and shocked by such language, which no one had
ever dared before to use in his presence, was furious. If Adlan had not
had such power in the country, he would never have dared to speak like
this; and if he had not accumulated considerable wealth, he would never
have risked giving up so lucrative a position. Abdullahi, however,
controlled himself, and replied, "I have taken note of what you have
said, and will think it over; leave me now, and I will give you an
answer to-morrow." He went out; but ere he had reached the door the
Khalifa had made up his mind. After sunset the next day, the two
Khalifas, all the Kadis, and Yakub were summoned to a council; and,
shortly afterwards, Adlan was called before them. In a few words,
similar to those he had used the previous day, the Khalifa spoke to him
about his attitude, adding, "You spoke against Yakub, and said that I
had estranged myself from the hearts of my partisans; do you not know
that my brother Yakub is my eye and my right hand? It is you who have
estranged the hearts of my friends from me; and now you dare to do the
same with my brother; but the Almighty God is righteous, and you shall
not escape your punishment." He then made a sign to the mulazemin, who
had been kept in readiness, to seize him and carry him off to prison.
Without uttering a word of reproach, with a firm step, and holding his
head high in the air, he submitted to his fate, determined that his
enemies should not have the satisfaction of seeing him downhearted or
afraid.

The Khalifa at once gave instructions that Adlan's house should be
confiscated, and the Beit el Mal property seized. A careful search of
the former was ordered; and the employés of the latter were instructed
to render immediate and complete accounts. In Adlan's pocket was found a
piece of paper inscribed all over with mysterious writing, in which the
name of the Khalifa frequently appeared; it had been written with a
solution of saffron, which is supposed to possess some secret power; and
the unfortunate Adlan was not less superstitious than the majority of
the Sudanese. The paper was declared to be sorcery, which is punishable
most severely; Adlan was pronounced to be mukhalef (disobedient) in not
carrying out his orders, and a traitor, because he had attempted to sow
dissension between the Khalifa and his brother Yakub, and, in the
endeavour to effect this, had been guilty of the use of sorcery. The
verdict was mutilation, or death, and he was allowed to make his choice;
he selected the latter.

With his hands tied across his chest, and to the strains of the
melancholy ombeÿa, he was led forth to the market-place, accompanied by
an immense crowd. Calmly mounting the angareb beneath the scaffold, he
himself placed his head in the noose, and, refusing to drink the water
offered to him, told the hangman to complete his work; the rope was
pulled taut, the angareb was removed, and there Ibrahim swung like a
marble statue, until his soul left his body, the outstretched index
finger alone indicating that he died in the true faith of Islam. In
spite of the interdiction, wails of sorrow filled the city; but the
Khalifa rejoiced that he had rid himself of so dangerous an enemy, and
refrained from punishing this disobedience to his orders. He sent his
brother Yakub to the funeral, as if to show to the world that Adlan had
merely been punished in accordance with the law, and that the well-known
animosity between the two had nothing to do with the matter.

His successor as Emin Beit el Mal was a certain Nur Wad Ibrahim whose
grandfather was a Takruri. He did not, therefore, belong to the tribes
of the Nile valley, and thus had a greater claim on the Khalifa's
confidence and consideration.

As regards myself, the Khalifa seemed to grow daily more suspicious.
Previous to Ibrahim Adlan's departure for the Gezira, the answer to my
letter, which had been sent to my family through Osman Digna, had
arrived. It contained only news of a private nature, and expressed the
great delight of my family that they had succeeded in at last getting
into communication with me. At the same time, they wrote to the Khalifa
in submissive words, expressing their gratitude for the kind and
honourable treatment which I received at his hands. They also assured
him of their great devotion to him, and thanked him for the high honour
he had conferred upon them by inviting them to come to Omdurman; but my
brother regretted his inability to accept, as he was at that time a
secretary in the office of the High Chamberlain of His Majesty the
Emperor of Austria, whilst the other brother was a lawyer and lieutenant
in the Artillery Reserve; they were therefore both unable, in virtue of
their positions, to undertake so long a journey. My master had called me
up, and, on handing me the letters, had ordered me to translate them to
him; then, considering for a few moments, he said to me, "It was my
intention to induce one of your brothers to come here and see me; and I
did what I had never done before,--wrote a letter to them. As they make
excuses and refuse to come, and as they now know that you are well, I
forbid you to have any more correspondence with them. Further
communications would only make you unhappy. Do you understand what I
mean?" "Certainly," I replied, "your orders shall be obeyed; and I also
think that further communication with my relatives is not necessary."
"Where is the Gospel that has been sent to you?" asked he, looking at me
fixedly. "I am a Moslem," I answered, for I was now on my guard; "and I
have no Gospel in my house. They sent me a translation of the Kuran, the
Holy Book, which your secretary saw when the box was opened, and which
is still in my possession." "Then bring it to me to-morrow," he said,
and signed to me to withdraw.

It was perfectly clear to me that he no longer trusted me; and I knew
that after Nejumi's defeat he had several times spoken in this sense to
the Kadis. I had already spent almost all the money I had received in
gifts amongst my comrades; and now some of these began to murmur, and
were disappointed that the sum was so small; and I knew that they were
intriguing against me. Who could have induced him to believe that the
Kuran which had been sent to me was the Gospel? The next day, I gave it
to him. The translation was by Ullman. He examined it carefully, and
then said: "You say that this is the Kuran; it is in the language of
unbelievers, and perhaps they have made alterations." "It is a literal
translation into my own language," I replied, calmly, "and its object is
to make me understand the Holy Book which has come from God, and was
made known to mankind by the Prophet, in the Arabic language. If you
wish, you can send it to Neufeld, who is in captivity in the prison, and
with whom I have no intercourse; and you can ascertain from him if my
assertion is correct." "I do not mistrust you, and I believe what you
say," he replied, in a somewhat more amiable tone; "but people have
spoken to me about it, and you had better destroy the book." When I had
told him that I was perfectly willing to do this, he continued, "Also I
wish you to return the present your brothers and sisters sent me; I can
make no use of it, and it will be a proof to them that I place no value
on worldly possessions."

He now had his secretary summoned, and ordered him to write a letter in
my name to my family, to the effect that it was not necessary to
correspond any more; and, after I had signed it, it was sent, together
with the travelling-bag, to the Beit el Mal, to be despatched to Suakin.
From that day, I was more careful than ever to do nothing to increase
the mistrust which I saw had sprung up in Abdullahi's mind. After
Adlan's death, however, he thought it necessary to warn me again, and
cautioned me most seriously against becoming mixed up in any sort of
conspiracy. Assembling all his mulazemin, he asserted, in the most
forcible language, that I was suspected of being a spy; that he had been
told I invariably questioned the camel postmen who arrived, about the
situation; that I received visitors in my house at night who were known
to be out of favour with him; and that I had gone so far as to inquire
in what part of his house his bedroom was situated. "I am afraid," he
continued, "that if you do not change your line of conduct, you will
follow in the footsteps of my old enemy Adlan."

This was rather a blow to me; but I knew that now, more than ever, I had
need of being calm and collected. "Sire!" said I, in a loud voice, "I
cannot defend myself against unknown enemies; but I am perfectly
innocent of all they have told you. I leave my detractors in the hands
of God. For more than six years, in sunshine and rain, I have stood at
your door, ever ready to receive and carry out your orders. At your
command, I have given up all my old friends, and have no communication
with any one. I have even given up all connection with my relatives, and
that without the slightest remonstrance. Such a thing as conspiracy has
never even entered my heart. During all these long years, I have never
made a complaint. Sire, what have I done? All that I do is not done out
of fear of you, but out of love for you; and I cannot do more. Should
God still have further trials in store for me, I shall calmly and
willingly submit to my fate; but I have full reliance in your sense of
justice."

"What have you to say to his words?" he said to the assembled mulazemin,
after a moment's silence. All, without exception, admitted that they had
never noticed anything in my behaviour which could give rise to such a
suspicion; my enemies also--and I well knew who they were, and who were
responsible for getting me into this dangerous position--were obliged to
admit this. "I forgive you," said he; "but avoid for the future giving
further cause for complaint," and, holding out his hand for me to kiss,
he signed to me to withdraw. He must have felt that he had wronged me;
for the next day he summoned me, spoke to me kindly, and warned me
against my enemies, who, he said, were as a thorn in my flesh. I
professed affection and confidence in him; and he then said, in quite a
confidential tone, "Do not make enemies, for you know that Mahdia is
conducted in accordance with the Moslem law: should you be accused
before the Kadi of treason, and two witnesses make good the accusation,
you are lost; for I cannot go against the law to save you."

What an existence in a country where one's very life hung on the
evidence of two witnesses! Thanking him for his advice, I promised to
follow it, and said I would, of course, do all in my power to deserve
his confidence. When I returned home at midnight, tired and worn out by
this constant strain, my devoted Saadalla informed me, to my great
annoyance, that, only a few minutes before, one of the Khalifa's eunuchs
had brought a closely-veiled female, who was now in my house.

I ought to have been greatly pleased about this, for it was a proof that
the Khalifa had forgiven me; but my first thought was, how to rid myself
of this present without creating suspicion. Saadalla and I now entered
the house; and, to my horror, I found that underneath the veil was an
Egyptian who had been born at Khartum, and who was, consequently, from a
Sudanese point of view, a lady of a comparatively fair complexion. She
was seated on the carpet; and, after we had exchanged greetings, she
replied to my query as to her nationality with such rapidity of speech
that I, who spoke Arabic fairly well, had the greatest difficulty in
following the romantic history of her life.

She was the daughter, she said, of an Egyptian officer who, I afterwards
learnt, had only been a private soldier, and who had fallen in the fight
against the Shilluks, under Yusef Bey. As this had taken place upwards
of twenty years before, I could, without any great effort of
calculation, estimate fairly accurately that this good lady was well out
of her teens; and as she admitted that her first husband had been killed
during the capture of Khartum, that her mother was an Abyssinian who had
been educated in Khartum, and was still alive, and that she had an
enormous number of relatives, I really believe that, had my head not
been clean-shaven, my hair would veritably have stood on end. This
far-travelled and widely-experienced lady informed me that she had been
one of the many hundreds of Abu Anga's wives, and I had now been chosen
as the happy successor of this old slave. After his death, she had been
captured, with several of her rivals, by the Abyssinians, when King John
attacked Gallabat, but had been subsequently liberated by Zeki Tummal;
and she knew so many details of all the fights in this neighbourhood,
that, had my memory been only capable of retaining them, they would have
now been of great interest to my readers. A short time ago, the Khalifa
had ordered Abu Anga's remaining widows to be brought to Omdurman, for
distribution amongst his followers; she then went on to say that the
Khalifa himself had specially selected her as my wife, and she added, in
a subdued tone, that she rejoiced to have fallen into the hands of a
fellow-countryman. I explained to her that I was not an Egyptian, but an
European. As, however, my skin was somewhat tanned, and the
circumstances in which I lived gave her a pretext for claiming me as a
compatriot, I was obliged to say that I would provide as far as possible
for her maintenance and comfort; and, as the night was well advanced, I
bade her follow my servant Saadalla, who would make arrangements for
her.

Such were the Khalifa's presents: instead of allocating a small sum of
money from the Beit el Mal, by means of which I could have procured for
myself a few comforts, he kept on sending me wives, who were not only a
source of considerable expense to me, but also a cause of much anxiety
and worry, inasmuch as I was continually struggling to free myself from
their unwelcome presence. The next morning, the Khalifa laughingly asked
me if I had received his present, and if I liked it. With the lesson of
two days ago still fresh in my mind, I assured him that I was only too
happy to receive this fresh proof of his affection, and that, please
God, I should always live in the enjoyment of his favour. When I
returned to my house before midday prayer, I found it full of females,
who, notwithstanding the remonstrances of Saadalla, and jeering at his
wrath, had entered by main force, and now introduced themselves to me
as the nearest relatives of Fatma el Beida (The White Fatma), as the
Khalifa's present was called.

A decrepid old Abyssinian lady introduced herself as my future
mother-in-law; from her loquacity, I should instantly have recognised
her as the mother of Fatma el Beida; and I could not help wondering how
so small and fragile a body could contain so noisy and voluble a tongue.
She assured me of her pleasure that her daughter had been confided to my
care, adding that she was convinced that I would accord to her her
rightful position in my household. Here was I, the slave of a tyrant,
and obliged to submit to the most wretched of circumstances; and now she
talked to me of the position due to her daughter! I assured her that I
would of course treat her daughter well; and, apologising that my time
was so fully occupied, I fled. Before leaving, however, I ordered
Saadalla to entertain them as well as he could, according to the custom
of the country, and then to turn them all out, neck and crop, and, if
necessary, to call the other servants to his assistance.

A few days afterwards, the Khalifa again inquired about Fatma; and as I
knew that he was most anxious that I should lead as quiet and secluded a
life as possible, I told him that, for the present, I had no objection
to her person; but as her numerous relatives might possibly come in
contact with people whose acquaintance neither he, my master, nor I
should consider desirable, and that as in my efforts to prevent this I
frequently came into collision with both sides, it was naturally my
earnest wish to prevent such disturbances. And I then went on to say
that, should she not submit to my arrangements, I proposed surrendering
Fatma entirely to her relatives; and with this proposition the Khalifa
appeared perfectly satisfied.

There was, however, no truth in this statement, for since Saadalla had
entertained and turned out his visitors I had seen no one; fearing to
betray my intentions to the Khalifa, I waited some time longer, and then
sent Fatma el Beida to her mother, whose whereabouts Saadalla had at
length discovered, and I instructed the lady to stay with her mother
until I should send for her. A few days afterwards, I sent a few clothes
to mother and daughter, and a small sum of money, with a message that
she was free, and no longer under any obligations to me. Of course I
told the Khalifa what I had done, reiterating that I was most anxious to
have nothing to do with people who were strangers to him and to me; and
in this he saw an additional proof of my anxiety to obey his orders.
About a month later, the mother came to see me, and asked my permission
to marry her daughter to one of her relatives. I agreed to this
proposition with the greatest alacrity; and I left Fatma el Beida the
mother of a happy family in Omdurman.




CHAPTER XIV.

MAHDIST OCCUPATION OF THE SOUTHERN PROVINCES.

    The Mahdist Expedition to Equatoria--The Fate of the Remnant of
    Emin's Garrison--The Campaign against the Shilluks--Tokar
    re-captured--Death of Osman Wad Adam--Dissensions in
    Dongola--The Fall of Khaled.


Karamalla, from whom Osman Wad Adam had taken away all his Bazingers and
female slaves, and who was now in a state of poverty in Omdurman, had,
whilst Emir of the Bahr el Ghazal Province, advanced to the vicinity of
the White Nile, and had worried Emin Pasha. Fortunately for the latter,
Karamalla had been recalled; and the Bahr el Ghazal Province having been
abandoned, no news had been received from Equatoria for a long time, and
those merchants who were engaged in the grain trade brought little
information from any of the countries south of Fashoda. The Khalifa, who
was always turning over in his mind how he could increase his revenue,
had heard of the richness of these countries in ivory and slaves, and,
in consequence, had decided to organise an expedition to attack and take
possession of them; but, as the undertaking was a risky one and success
doubtful, he hesitated to involve in it his relatives or his tribe; he
therefore nominated Omar Saleh, who had been educated amongst the
Taaisha tribe, as chief of the expedition, which was composed for the
most part of tribes of the Nile valley,--Jaalin and Danagla. Three
steamers were now manned, as well as eight sailing-vessels filled with
cargo, consisting principally of Manchester goods, beads, etc.; and Omar
Saleh was given a force of some rifles and five hundred spearmen. The
Khalifa sent letters to Emin Pasha, including one which I was obliged to
sign, in which I called upon him to surrender; George Stambuli, who had
formerly been Emin Pasha's private agent in Khartum, was also obliged to
write a letter. At this time, the Shilluks were in considerable force;
and as they did not owe allegiance to the Khalifa, Omar Saleh was
instructed to pass by Fashoda as quickly as possible, and only to defend
himself in case of attack. The expedition quitted Omdurman in July,
1890, passed Fashoda without difficulty; and after that Omar had no
further opportunity of reporting on his position. It was not till a year
had elapsed, and the Khalifa was beginning to get uneasy, and was
considering how he could procure information, that a steamer arrived
with some ivory and a quantity of slaves, the captain of which gave a
full account of the progress and position of the expedition. The
Egyptian garrison of Reggaf had surrendered, and some of the officers of
that place had been sent to Duffilé, with orders to seize Emin Pasha,
whose soldiers had mutinied, and hand him over to Omar Saleh. After the
departure of the party from Reggaf, a rumour had been circulated amongst
the Mahdists that they had been deceived by the officers, and that it
was the intention of the latter, on their arrival at Duffilé, to join
with the garrison of that place and attack Omar Saleh; he therefore
seized the officers and men who had remained behind, threw them into
chains, and distributed their property and slaves amongst his followers.
The officers who had gone to Duffilé had really intended to capture
Emin, who had in the meantime left with Stanley; and, hearing of what
had happened to their wives and property, they now collected the
soldiers who, on Emin's departure had created a sort of military
republic, and with them marched towards Reggaf. The Mahdists, getting
information of this, met them on the road; and a fight ensued, in which
Omar Saleh was victorious. The officers were killed; but most of the men
succeeded in beating a retreat towards Duffilé followed by the Mahdists,
who attacked the position, but were driven off and forced to retire. In
spite of this victory, great dissensions prevailed amongst the men;
and, eventually, they dispersed in bands throughout the province, in
order to gain their own livelihood. The Khalifa, rejoicing at Omar
Saleh's success, and his cupidity excited by the exaggerated accounts of
Wad Badai, who had arrived on the steamer, now gave instructions for
another expedition to be equipped, with which he despatched Hassib Wad
Ahmed and Elias Wad Kanuna, and took advantage of the occasion to rid
himself of many characters which were obnoxious to him. From that date,
Reggaf became a colony for the deportation of convicts, and of persons
whose presence in Omdurman was considered dangerous to the state.
Several persons who had been accused of theft, and incarcerated in the
Saier, were handed over to Wad Kanuna, who, at the same time, had all
persons suspected of leading an immoral life seized, thrown into chains,
and sent up to Reggaf; the opportunity was made the most of by several
of the Emirs and other influential people to rid themselves of any
persons whom they thought dangerous or disagreeable to them. The two
chiefs also took advantage of the occasion to visit all the villages on
the river bank between Omdurman and Kawa, and ruthlessly seize the
people, under the pretext that they belonged to this category, and had
been sentenced by the Khalifa to transportation; they could only regain
their freedom by the payment of a considerable sum of money to the two
Emirs, who continued their depredations until they reached the Shilluk
and Dinka country, the inhabitants of which they feared too much to
attempt such outrages on them.

From merchants who had gone to Fashoda in the years 1889 and 1890 to
obtain grain, we had heard a good deal about the people who lived in
these countries. The districts in close proximity to the river were
mostly inhabited by the Shilluks and Dinkas, who, untrammelled by the
despotic tyranny of the Khalifa, lived a quiet and undisturbed life in
the midst of their families. They were ruled over by a descendant of the
Mek (King) of the old Shilluk royal family, who had certain restrictive
rights over his subjects, and, with his own interest always to the
fore, permitted commercial relations with the Mahdists, avoiding at the
same time any actual allegiance to the Khalifa, to whom he did not pay
tribute. Wad Badai, who had had sufficient opportunities of seeing the
wealth of the country between Fashoda and Reggaf, now gave it as his
opinion that the Khalifa would considerably profit by its acquisition.
At this time, Zeki Tummal was at Gallabat with his army, which, owing to
famine, had considerably decreased in numbers, though he had done his
best to maintain it at the expense of the local population; he had,
moreover, made constant raids on the Amhara country. But now the
condition of the district had become so poor that he had great
difficulties in finding sufficient supplies for his men, with whom he
was unusually strict, punishing them most rigorously for the most
trivial offences; and on this account he was not only unpopular amongst
them, but also amongst his Emirs. He now received instructions from the
Khalifa to proceed to the Shilluk country; and, marching to Kawa, where
he embarked, he went direct to Fashoda. The King of the Shilluks, being
under the impression that Zeki's steamers were on their way to Reggaf,
was much surprised when the Emir suddenly landed; the Mek fled, was
pursued, captured, and, having refused to disclose the hiding-place of
the money he had received in exchange for the grain, was promptly
executed. The Shilluks, however, who are the finest and bravest of the
Sudanese Black tribes, collected both north and south of Fashoda, and
defended their liberty and their homes with magnificent courage and
resolution; but Zeki's men, used to constant fighting, and armed with
Remington rifles, were almost invariably victorious. It was not,
however, until after many bloody fights, in which the Shilluks, armed
only with their lances, frequently broke the squares and inflicted
considerable loss on the soldiers, that they had at last to admit they
were beaten. They dispersed, with their families, throughout the
country, but were pursued in all directions by Zeki, who captured large
numbers of them. The men he invariably put to the sword; but the women,
young girls, and children were embarked on the steamers, and despatched
to Omdurman. Here the Khalifa ordered the young boys to be taken charge
of by his mulazemin, by whom they were to be brought up, whilst most of
the girls he kept for himself, or distributed amongst his followers and
special adherents. The remainder were sent to the Beit el Mal, where
they were publicly sold; but thousands of these poor creatures succumbed
to fatigue, want, and the change of climate. Unused to life in this
squalid city, these wild Blacks were huddled together in wretched
quarters, and eventually found homes amongst the poorest class of the
population. It was no uncommon occurrence for a girl to be sold as a
slave at the rate of from eight to twenty dollars (Omdurman currency).

When Zeki left Gallabat, the Emir Ahmed Wad Ali took his place, and his
brother Hamed Wad Ali was nominated Emir of Kassala. Avaricious to a
degree, he mercilessly robbed the people of their property and cattle,
with the result that the eastern Arab tribes, such as the Hadendoa,
Halenga, Beni Amer, etc., who had really captured Kassala for the Mahdi,
now revolted, and, wandering eastwards in the direction of Massawa,
placed themselves under the protection of the Italians. Thus it was that
this once thickly populated country became almost denuded of
inhabitants. Amongst others, the once powerful Shukria tribe, which had
suffered terribly during the famine year, was now almost extinct; whilst
the fertile district of Kassala was almost completely deserted, and the
garrison there had the greatest difficulty in maintaining itself.

The Khalifa, alarmed at the progress of the Italians from Massawa, now
looked upon Kassala as the mainstay of his authority in these districts.
He was furious with his cousin, Hamed Wad Ali, whom he accused of having
ruined the country, and recalled him to Omdurman, where he was ordered
to attend prayers in the mosque five times daily; and he replaced him at
Kassala by Abu Girga, who had hitherto been with Osman Digna.

Osman Digna, who had been made responsible for the government of the
Eastern Sudan, had been successful in subjugating most of the Arab
tribes; and, through them, he had for several years been a menace to
Suakin. He had had several engagements with the Government troops; and,
on one occasion, Sir Herbert Kitchener, the present Sirdar of the
Egyptian Army, had been severely wounded whilst making an attack on his
camp at Handub. Eventually, the Government sent an expedition which
drove him out of the position he had taken up to besiege Suakin; and he
now made his headquarters at Tokar, where he remained for some years,
making constant incursions in the vicinity of Suakin, and harrying the
friendly tribes of which the Amarar was the principal; but, tired of
this constant fighting, and irritated by Osman's undue severity, the
local tribes began to desert the cause, and not a few of them became
actually hostile to the Khalifa's authority. Informed of this state of
things Abdullahi, more anxious to defend his newly acquired realm than
to occupy himself in propagating the Mahdist doctrine, instructed Osman
Digna not to go too far, and sent Mohammed Wad Khaled to him with this
message. The latter, after the confiscation of his property at Bara, had
been kept for more than a year in chains in Kordofan; he had then been
brought to Omdurman, had received the Khalifa's pardon, and had received
back a small portion of his property. For years, he had said his prayers
daily in the mosque under the Khalifa's eye, and had apparently broken
off all relations with his relatives, whom he accused of unfairness and
ingratitude; but, as usual, his astuteness had not failed him: he was
well aware of the Khalifa's hostility to all the Mahdi's relatives, and
that was the reason he so studiously avoided all contact with them;
hence his nomination as the Khalifa's personal representative with Osman
Digna. In this mission he was most successful; and, having completed it,
he was instructed to proceed to Abu Hamed, and report on the general
condition of the Ababda tribes, who were subject to the Egyptian
Government, but who were at the same time in close relationship with
the Mahdist tribes of the Berber Province. Khaled's mission, however,
did not have any lasting effect on Osman Digna; for, a few weeks after
his departure, the Egyptian troops, under Holled Smith Pasha, attacked
Tokar, and utterly routed Osman, who fled to the Atbara. The Khalifa,
who had been informed by Osman that he was about to be attacked, awaited
the result with the greatest anxiety; but he openly declared to his
followers that he had not the slightest doubt that victory was insured;
when, therefore, the news came of Osman's utter defeat and flight, he
was greatly upset. Councils of war were at once held, for it was feared
the Government troops would advance towards Kassala and Berber, both of
which places were only weakly held; consequently, instructions were
issued to the commanders of these places that, should the troops
advance, they should fall back on Metemmeh, where it was his intention
to make a fortified camp. Great, however, was his relief when he
received news that the Government had contented itself with the
re-capture of Tokar. The loss of this district was undoubtedly a very
heavy blow to him, and left open to the tribes friendly to the
Government the roads leading to both Kassala and Berber. A few months
later, Osman Digna, who had taken up a position on the high ground south
of Berber, with the remnant of his force, suffered greatly from want of
food, and was obliged to disperse his men over the country; he therefore
received orders to proceed to Berber with his Emirs, and, having
obtained new clothing, he and the newly nominated Emir of Berber, Zeki
Osman, were summoned to Omdurman. Here he was received in a friendly
manner by the Khalifa, who, convinced of his fidelity and
trustworthiness, consoled him about his defeat, and, after treating him
honourably for a few weeks, sent him back with some horses, camels, and
women to the Atbara, where he was instructed to make a camp and
agricultural settlement, and collect his scattered forces.

At this time, only Eastern Darfur remained subject to Osman Wad Adam.
The country had been almost depopulated by famine, and this Emir now
decided to advance against Dar Tama and Massalit; but, on the frontier,
he encountered such severe opposition that he began to think the
undertaking too dangerous. He was attacked in his zariba by the natives,
who, armed only with small spears, forced their way in; and he had to
thank his Remington rifles and the Sheikhs who were with him, for a
dearly earned victory; had he been attacked on the line of march, he
would almost certainly have been annihilated. His heavy losses
considerably delayed his march; and, ere he could obtain reinforcements,
a severe epidemic of typhoid fever broke out amongst his men, and he was
forced to retire; falling ill himself on the march, he died two days
after his arrival at Fasher. His loss was a great blow to the Khalifa,
who looked on his young cousin (he was barely twenty years of age) as a
courageous leader who paid careful attention to the wants of his men,
and had done much to increase the strength and number of the Mahdist
forces; he invariably sent to the Khalifa the fair share of the booty,
and disinterestedly divided the remainder amongst his people, keeping
only for himself what sufficed for his immediate wants. He was a
magnificent rider, was most popular with every one, and avoided leading
an effeminate and enervating existence; for long after his death he was
looked upon as a fine example of a bold and courageous Arab. He was
succeeded in the command of Darfur by another of the Khalifa's youthful
relatives, Mahmud Wad Ahmed, who was a great contrast to his
predecessor: he thought only of enriching himself; his sole pleasure
consisted in leading a life of debauchery with women of evil repute,
dancers, and singers, and he took a special delight in all their
unseemly ways. A mutiny soon broke out amongst his men, which was
suppressed with the utmost severity, and resulted in a considerable
weakening of his forces.

Yunes, who, since his despatch to Dongola, had always been considered
Nejumi's superior, now attached to his councils Arabi Wad Dafalla and
Mussaid; but, as each one was bent entirely on enriching himself as
rapidly as possible, differences soon broke out, for the country was
quite unable to sustain the strain of overburdened taxation. Mussaid and
Arabi complained to the Khalifa that Yunes allowed his Emirs to govern
the country entirely according to their own ideas, with the result that
prices were continually rising; and, in consequence of this report, he
was recalled from Dongola.

This province being adjacent to the Egyptian frontier, large numbers of
the inhabitants had emigrated to Egypt; and, as the Egyptian garrison at
Wadi Haifa was being constantly reinforced, the Khalifa, dreading an
attack, insisted on a more lenient treatment of the people. He therefore
appointed Khaled as Yunes's successor, as he was convinced that his
character and capabilities exactly suited him for this post, and
instructed him that he should tax the people in accordance with the
number of the sakias (water-wheels) and date-palms; but not being
entirely without suspicion of Khaled's behaviour, he ordered a
detachment of his own men, armed with rifles, to be placed under Arabi
Wad Dafalla, whilst the spearmen of his own tribe were made over to
Mussaid.

The natural outcome of these arrangements was renewed dissension.
Khaled, anxious to increase the revenue of the country without
augmenting taxation, began filling up vacant posts with men of his own
choice, whilst Arabi and Mussaid did their utmost to nominate their own
relatives and friends; failing to arrange matters with Khaled, they now
began to make the most exorbitant demands, with which he could not
possibly comply, and, from dissensions, they came to insults, and very
nearly to blows, the two parties being actually drawn up facing each
other with arms in their hands. Khaled's party was composed principally
of inhabitants of the Nile valley,--Jaalin and Danagla,--whilst that of
Arabi and Mussaid was composed of Jehadia and western Arabs. Message
after message was despatched to the Khalifa by both sides, whilst
actual conflict was prevented by intermediaries and peacefully disposed
persons. Abdullahi immediately sent Yunes to take the place of Arabi and
Mussaid, who were recalled; and, immediately after they had arrived, he
sent instructions to Khaled to appear before him in Omdurman, to be
present, he said, at the punishment of Arabi and Mussaid; but no sooner
had he reached the capital than he was arraigned in court with his
antagonists. The judges consisted of the Khalifa as President, and a
number of Kadis and devoted Emirs as members; Khaled was accused of
having spoken disparagingly of his master and relatives, by saying that
they had been the cause of the ruin of the country. The Khalifa's
brother Yakub was as usual at the bottom of this intrigue, and there is
no doubt the Khalifa himself regretted having given Khaled so
influential a position; he therefore gladly seized this opportunity of
getting rid of him. During the proceedings a letter arrived from Yunes
(who had beforehand received Yakub's private instructions) to the effect
that whilst the parties were mediating, Khaled had clandestinely
concealed six boxes of ammunition, which he intended to send to his
relatives in Omdurman. Before the arraignment, the Khalifa had privately
arranged the verdict, and of course no one dared to take the part of the
accused; he was found guilty, sentenced to imprisonment for an
indefinite period, and was hurried off to the Saier, where he was kept
in solitary confinement. Curiously enough, an explanation of the
Khalifa's action appeared in an Arabic newspaper published in Cairo, in
which an extract from the Italian paper "La Riforma" had been published
to the effect that Khaled had been in communication with the Egyptian
Government for the surrender of the province with which he had been
entrusted. In consequence of this, the Khalifa again assembled the
judges, showed them the newspaper as a proof of Khaled's treachery; and
he was at once condemned to be executed. The Khalifa, however, declared
that he was most anxious not to cause the death of one of the Mahdi's
relatives and a descendant of the Prophet, he therefore commuted the
sentence to imprisonment for life. His magnanimity on this occasion was
of course praised on all sides, whilst he himself rejoiced that he had
for ever ridden himself of the only one of the Mahdi's relatives of
whose knowledge and astuteness he was justly in considerable awe. He now
used Khaled's treachery as a handle by which to irritate the Ashraf in
general; and lost no opportunity of doing all he could to weaken their
cause, and reduce them to a position of impotence, with the result that
an insurrection eventually broke out in Omdurman, which ended in the
complete success of the plans which Abdullahi had long since prepared.




CHAPTER XV.

DISSENSION AND DISCORD.

    The Revolt of the Ashraf--Flight of Father Ohrwalder and the Two
    Sisters--The Khalifa revenges himself on the Ashraf--The Seizure
    and Execution of the Mahdi's Uncles--Zeki Tummal's return to
    Omdurman laden with Booty--Khalifa Sherif Arrested--"Where there
    is no Fire, there is no Smoke"--I change my Quarters--Sad News
    from Austria--The Khalifa falls Ill--The Story of the
    Bird-messenger--The Fall of Zeki Tummal--The Battle of
    Agordat--The Capture of Kassala--The Fate of Kadi Ahmed--The
    Congo Free State in Equatoria and Bahr el Ghazal--I refuse to
    marry the Khalifa's Cousin.


The Khalifa Mohammed Sherif, in conjunction with two of the Mahdi's
sons, who were scarcely twenty years of age, and many of his relatives,
now agreed amongst themselves to shake off the hated yoke of Khalifa
Abdullahi and seize the reins of government. They secretly elaborated
their plans in Omdurman, and gradually took into their confidence
several of their friends and fellow-tribesmen. They also despatched
letters to the Danagla living in the Gezira, whom they invited to come
to Omdurman and join them; but one of the Jaalin Emirs betrayed them. He
had been bound over by an oath to tell only his brother or best friends;
and he at once informed the Khalifa, saying that he considered him his
best friend. Apprised of the conspiracy, Abdullahi at once made counter
arrangements; but the Ashraf, warned by their spies of the Khalifa's
secret orders and doings, realised that their plot had been discovered,
and immediately collected in that part of the town just north of the
Khalifa's house, prepared for the fray. All the Ashraf and Danagla in
Omdurman assembled in the houses in the vicinity of the Mahdi's tomb;
and the sailors and most of the boats' crews joined them, saying that
they were ready to fight and conquer for the sake of the religion which
the Khalifa had abused. The arms which had been secretly hidden were now
brought out and distributed. They numbered scarcely a hundred Remington
rifles, a small quantity of ammunition, and a few elephant guns. Ahmed
Wad Suleiman behaved like one demented. He declared that he had seen the
Prophet and the Mahdi, who assured him of the victory of his party; and
he urged forward the commencement of hostilities. Even the Mahdi's
widows, who, after his death, had been kept strictly locked up in their
houses by the Khalifa, were not allowed to see any one, and were given
scarcely sufficient food to keep them alive, longed for the conflict,
hoping that their position would be ameliorated. Indeed the Um el
Muminin (The Mother of the Believers), the Mahdi's principal widow,
girded a sword round her waist, with the intention of taking a part in
this Holy War. Whilst all this was going on at night, and within
scarcely a hundred yards of the Khalifa's house, he himself was quietly
taking his precautions.

It was on a Monday evening, after prayers, that the Khalifa summoned his
special mulazemin, and, in a few words, informed us of the intentions of
the Ashraf. He instructed us to arm ourselves as best we could, and on
no account to quit our posts in front of the gate. Ammunition was served
out to the Black mulazemin Jehadia, and they were ordered to take up
positions in the streets leading to the houses of the rebels, and cut
off any reinforcements which might attempt to join them. Upwards of a
thousand rifles were distributed amongst the Taaisha Arabs, who were
posted in the open space between the Mahdi's tomb and the Khalifa's
house, and also along the enclosure of the latter. The Black troops,
under the command of Ahmed Fedil, took up a position in the middle of
the mosque, and there awaited further orders; and here also were posted
the infantry spearmen and cavalry under the command of Yakub. Khalifa
Ali, whose people were suspected of sympathising with the rebels, was
ordered to occupy the northern portion of the city, and cut off all
communication in that direction.

When the sun arose, the mutineers were completely surrounded; and they
had now to choose between fighting and surrendering. Before, however,
any blows were exchanged, the Khalifa despatched his Kadi, accompanied
by Sayed Mekki, to Khalifa Sherif and the Mahdi's sons, reminding them
of their late father's proclamation, and of the words he had spoken
before his death. At the same time, he instructed the Kadi to inquire
into their grievances, which he promised to rectify, if it was possible
for him to do so. The curt answer to the Khalifa was that they preferred
to fight. Abdullahi had given strict injunctions to all his Emirs to
abstain, as far as possible, from blows, and only to defend themselves
in the event of a sudden attack. He was most anxious to quell the
insurrection by conciliatory measures, as he fully realised that, if a
fight ensued in which there was little doubt he would be victorious,
Omdurman would almost certainly be sacked and ruined. He was well aware
that the western Arab tribes would gladly seize the occasion to satisfy
their ruling passion for murder and plunder; their one desire would be
to obtain all the loot they could, and to this end to spare neither
friend nor foe, with the result that, in all probability, they would
fight amongst themselves, and then go off to their own country, which
they had quitted with considerable reluctance. Once more he sent the
Kadi to the insurgents, who returned with a similar reply.

Personally, I longed for the fight, for I had only my life to lose, and
that was in daily peril. I had before me the example of Ibrahim Adlan;
and I knew that Abdullahi had no regard for the lives of his best and
truest friends. Internal fighting must result in the weakening of my
enemies, and that alone would have been a source of satisfaction to me;
moreover, in the confusion which must arise, I might find an occasion to
regain my liberty, and possibly I might be able to exercise some
influence over the former Government troops, who I knew were much
dissatisfied with their present treatment. Under such abnormal
circumstances, it was impossible to frame any distinct plan of action.
My desire was that a fight should take place, and that I should make as
much capital out of it as I could for my own personal benefit.

Some of the most excited of the mutineers now began firing, and some of
those on our side, contrary to orders, replied; but it was by no means a
fight,--merely a few stray shots. The insurgents did not seem to know
what they wanted; their party was undecided, their weapons were bad and
out of repair, and so also was the courage of the Ashraf and their
followers. After a short time, the firing ceased, and on our side the
total loss was five killed. Again the Khalifa sent out a proclamation,
which was borne this time by Khalifa Ali Wad Helu, and to this summons
the reply was more favourable; they wished to know, they said, the
conditions of reconciliation; and they were then told to name their
proposals. The negotiations continued all that day and far into the
night. They began again the following day, and, to my great regret, a
clear understanding was arrived at, and was agreed to by the Khalifa
under a solemn oath: he promised complete forgiveness to all who had
taken part in the insurrection, to give to Khalifa Mohammed Sherif a
position worthy of his dignity, and a seat in Council, to allow him to
again take possession of the standards which, after Nejumi's death, had
been laid aside, and to collect volunteers under them, and promised
pecuniary support from the Beit el Mal to the Mahdi's relatives, in
accordance with Sherif's proposals. In return for these concessions, the
insurgents agreed to give up all their arms, and submit unconditionally
to the Khalifa's orders. The agreement was now ratified, and the terms
of peace concluded by the delegates on both sides; but somehow no one
seemed in any hurry to execute them. On the following Friday morning,
the leaders of the insurgents came themselves before the Khalifa, and
obtained a renewal of the promises he had made, in return for which they
gave fresh attestations of loyalty; and, on the same afternoon, Khalifa
Sherif and the Mahdi's sons approached Abdullahi. Peace was now fully
concluded, and the cavalry and infantry, which had been with us day and
night since the disturbances began, were permitted to leave the mosque
and return to their quarters; but, as the arms had not yet been handed
over, the jehadia and mulazemin were ordered to remain at their posts.

On Sunday afternoon, I had sent one of my servants to the Missionary
Father, Joseph Ohrwalder, to inquire after him, and he had found his
door closed; I had thoughtlessly made inquiries about him of his
neighbours, the Greeks and some of the former merchants who, as my
servant told me, had made a most careful search for him, but had been
unable to trace him or the Missionary Sisters who had been with him. It
at once flashed through my mind that possibly, during the disturbances,
he might have found some trusty persons who had undertaken to effect his
escape; and so it eventually transpired. Before evening prayer, the Emir
of the Muslemania (Europeans who had been forcibly made to adopt
Mohammedanism), and the Syrian George Stambuli anxiously came and asked
to be taken before the Khalifa, as they had something of considerable
importance to tell him. The Khalifa, fully occupied with matters which
he considered of great importance, ordered them to wait at the mosque;
and, after night prayers, he asked them what they wanted. With trembling
voices, they informed him that Yusef el Gasis (Joseph the Priest) was
missing since yesterday, also the women who were with him. Very much
annoyed, the Khalifa at once summoned Nur el Gereifawi, the Emin Beit el
Mal, and Mohammed Wahbi, the Prefect of the Police, and commanded them
to do all in their power to overtake the fugitives and bring them back
to Omdurman, dead or alive. It was fortunate for the poor Greeks that
the Khalifa was so much occupied with other matters or he would--as
Ohrwalder had lived amongst them--have arrested many and confiscated
their property. Luckily, however, on the day of the outbreak, all the
camels had been sent into the districts in order to bring in the troops;
and Gereifawi and Wahbi could only procure three camels for the pursuit
of Ohrwalder, who knew that the success of his flight depended on its
rapidity. From the depth of my heart I hoped he might succeed. He had
suffered a great deal, and had borne it with Christian fortitude and
patience. I now felt completely deserted; he was the only man with whom
I was intellectually on a par, and with whom I could--though very
rarely--talk a few words in my mother tongue.

The following day, I was summoned before the Khalifa, who angrily
reproached me for Ohrwalder's flight. "He is one of your own race, and
is in communication with you; why did you not draw my attention to its
possibility, so that I might have taken precautions? I am positive you
knew of his intention to escape," said he. "Sire, pardon me!" said I;
"how could I know of his intention to escape, and how could I tell you
that he had done so? Since the outbreak of the revolt attempted by your
God-forsaken enemies, and which, thanks to the Almighty, you have now
defeated by your wisdom, I have not moved day or night from my post. Had
I known that he was a traitor, I should have at once told you of it." To
this he angrily replied, "No doubt your Consul arranged for him to be
taken away from here."

Amongst the last letters which I had received, was one written in Arabic
from the Austro-Hungarian Consul-General, Von Rosty, to the Khalifa, in
which he thanked him for the kind treatment of the members of the former
Catholic Mission, and, at the same time, asked his permission to send
them a messenger, for whom he begged a free pass, as they were under
Austrian protection, and as His Majesty the Emperor had a special regard
for them. The Khalifa had shown me the letter, which he had left
unanswered; but from that day he had looked upon the members of the
Mission as my compatriots, and was now convinced that they had been
assisted to escape by the aid of the Consul-General. I now remarked to
the Khalifa that possibly merchants belonging to the frontier tribes,
and who often came to Omdurman, might have taken advantage of the
disturbances in order to help Ohrwalder and the Sisters to escape, so as
to obtain some pecuniary reward for themselves. Abdullahi, who was still
much pre-occupied with the revolt, came round to my opinion; and, after
admonishing me to remain perfectly loyal, he dismissed me.

In spite of the reluctance of the Ashraf to surrender their arms, they
were gradually obliged to give them all up; and, having achieved this
much, the Khalifa now set to work to mature his scheme of revenge.
Twenty days perhaps had passed since the beginning of the outbreak, but
we were still kept in constant readiness, watching day and night over
our master. He now summoned the two Khalifas, the Kadis, and the chiefs
of the Ashraf and Danagla to a meeting. He reproached the latter
severely, saying, that in spite of his previous pardon, they had shown
great reluctance in obeying his orders, they seldom attended prayers,
and were scarcely ever present at the Friday morning parades; he also
had the Mahdi's proclamation read out to them. Then, true to the system
adopted by his predecessor, of acting entirely in accordance with
prophetic inspiration, he announced to the meeting that the Prophet had
appeared to him, and had commanded him to mete out punishment to the
disobedient, whom he had mentioned by name. Thirteen persons in all were
included in this category: Ahmed Wad Suleiman, whom he detested, headed
the list; then followed Shenudi, one of the Khalifa's secretaries, a
Dongolawi who was under suspicion of sympathising with the rebels and
giving them information of the Khalifa's plans. One by one, as each name
was called, the unfortunate wretches had their hands tied behind their
backs, were carried off to the prison, and thrown into chains; a few
days later, the Khalifa sent them by boat, under a strong escort, to
Fashoda, where Zeki Tummal had them closely confined for eight days in a
zariba with scarcely any food or water, giving them only just
sufficient to keep them alive; then, in accordance with the secret
instructions he had received, he had them beaten to death with freshly
cut sticks from thorny trees. The execution took place in front of the
whole army, and, before this cruel operation began, their clothing was
ruthlessly torn from their emaciated bodies.

Immediately the insurrection was over, the Khalifa despatched two of his
relatives, Ibrahim Wad Melek and Saleh Hamedo,--the former to the Blue
and the latter to the White Nile,--to arrest all the followers and
relatives of the Ashraf, who, being absent, were not included in the
general amnesty. In compliance with these orders, upwards of a thousand
men were sent in shebas to Omdurman, where they were accused by the
Khalifa of having taken part in the conspiracy. For many days, they were
kept in close confinement, huddled together in the prison-yard, and in
hourly dread of execution; but at length the Khalifa pardoned them, on
condition that they should share all they possessed with him; and of
course the poor wretches had to agree to these conditions. Orders were
issued to carry out the distribution in accordance with the curious
arithmetical rules instituted by the Khalifa, who, of course, received
the lion's share; on their return to their villages, they found
themselves divested of almost everything they possessed. Those who had
been well off were left with a mere pittance; and the poorer members had
nothing, whilst they found their daughters had been dishonoured, and
their wives abused. Deprived of all their arms, they had to submit to
the inevitable; but in their hearts they longed for some opportunity of
revenge. The Khalifa, after having taken all he required of their
property for himself and his brother, distributed the remainder amongst
the western Arabs, and of these, the Jubarat section, to which he
belonged, was given the largest share. This roused the discontent of the
other tribes, to whom the Taaisha had for some considerable time been a
constant source of annoyance; not only were they given the preference in
almost every case; but they were over-bearingly insolent, and whenever
complaints were made to the Khalifa or Yakub, the petitioners were
invariably sharply rebuked. During all these disturbances, the natives
in the provinces and the various garrisons had remained quiet; and their
commanders had received secret instructions to gradually disarm the
Danagla, of whose disloyalty there was no longer any doubt.

Abdullahi now turned his attention to the Mahdi's two uncles, Mohammed
Abdel Kerim and Abdel Kader Wad Sati Ali. He affirmed he had received
information that they were indignant about his actions, and had been
guilty of instigating others against him; they utterly denied the
charge, but were sentenced by Kadi Ali to imprisonment. The Khalifa
ordered them to be put in chains, and sent on to Zeki Tummal, who, as
usual, was provided with secret instructions.

Zeki's forces had dispersed all the Shilluk gatherings throughout the
country, and destroyed their villages; but, an epidemic of typhus having
broken out amongst the men, the Khalifa ordered him to quit Fashoda and
come with his entire army to Omdurman, but, before doing so, to raid the
Dinka tribe, who had already made their submission without fighting,
seize their cattle and enslave their wives and children. These
unsuspecting Blacks were summoned together under the pretext of a great
feast; and, when all had assembled, they were massacred almost to a man,
and their wives, children, and cattle carried off. Whilst on this
expedition he met, near Gebel Ahmed Agha, the boat conveying the Mahdi's
uncles; and, having perused the letters from Omdurman, he ordered the
prisoners to be landed after sunset. The wretched captives, knowing the
fate that was in store for them, besought pardon, but were only jeered
at by Zeki Tummal; they were taken inland, and their heads were split
open with the small axes which are used in the Sudan for lopping off
branches of trees.

Zeki Tummal now returned to Omdurman laden with booty; he brought with
him thousands of female slaves, and immense herds of cattle, the sale
of which brought in a large sum of ready money. Most of Zeki's Emirs
indignantly complained of his tyranny, and even asserted to the Khalifa
that, if he could obtain sufficient followers, he would not hesitate to
make himself independent; but the latter, by making rich presents of
female slaves, money, and cattle to the Khalifa and his brother,
succeeded in remaining in their good graces.

Whilst Zeki Tummal was in Omdurman, the Khalifa carried out a series of
manoeuvres between his forces and those quartered in Omdurman, and
personally took the command; but as he had absolutely no idea of
military science, and as the thirty thousand troops of whom he disposed
were entirely without discipline, the manoeuvres resulted in the most
hopeless confusion and disorder; and the blame for this invariably fell
on my devoted head, for the Khalifa employed me as a sort of
aide-de-camp, and when he became inextricably muddled up he hurled abuse
at me, and said I had purposely perverted his orders to make mischief.
Of course, I did not dare remonstrate with him, and quietly continued to
carry out his orders. At length he declared the exercises over, ordered
Zeki Tummal off to Gallabat, and, as was usually the case, commended me
for my services, and presented me with two Black young ladies as a proof
of his good-will.

Meanwhile, Khalifa Sherif had heard of the murder of his two relatives,
and openly protested against this tyrannical proceeding; thus giving
Abdullahi an opportunity of taking the revenge for which he had so
patiently waited. He declared him to be guilty of disobedience to the
instructions which the Mahdi had so strictly enforced, and of
inattention to the Divine inspiration of the Prophet. He therefore
ordered Khalifa Ali and the Kadis to take him to task for the manner in
which he had expressed himself, and to point out to him that the
entirely false impression he had of his own rights as Khalifa had
brought about the death of his own relatives and followers. Promptly
assembling all the Kadis and principal Emirs, they decided that Khalifa
Sherif should be immediately arrested; on the following day, the
mulazemin being formed up in square on the open space between
Abdullahi's house and the Mahdi's tomb, they went in a body to him,
informed him that he was to be arrested, counselled submission, and
advised him to come with them of his own free-will. Too late, he now
realised what he had brought upon himself by his careless and
ill-considered talking. Going outside, he was received by the mulazemin
under the command of Arabi Dafalla; when he asked for his shoes, they
were refused him; and, on coming out of the mosque, he was driven and
pushed along at such a rate that he twice fell to the ground from pure
exhaustion, arriving at length at the Saier in a deplorable condition.
Here six irons were hammered on to his legs, so that he could scarcely
move; and a small straw hut was allotted to him as his abode. Cut off
from all intercourse with his fellow-creatures, and with only the bare
ground to lie upon, he had ample time to realise that the sacred
promises given by a Khalifa were of no avail when it was a question of
upholding his authority, or satisfying his thirst for vengeance. The
Mahdi's two young sons were sent to their grandfather, Ahmed Sharfi, who
was ordered to keep them closely locked up in his house, and allow no
one to see them. This Ahmed was an old man, and had made an immense
fortune by robbery; fearing to lose it, he was as submissive as a slave
to the Khalifa, and had thus to some extent gained his affection.

Soon after this occurrence, I passed through a period of considerable
excitement. Yunes had sent on a man from Dongola to the Khalifa; he had
come from Cairo, and was charged with important information from the
Government. He was received personally by the Khalifa in the presence of
all the Kadis. I had a foreboding that the man's arrival was somehow
connected with me, and I endeavoured to discover from one of the Kadis,
who was a friend of mine, what had happened; he hurriedly told me that I
had nothing to fear, and advised me not to show the slightest interest
in the matter, lest I might be suspected. After prayers, the Kadis and
the messenger were again summoned before the Khalifa, and, to my great
relief, I saw the man soon afterwards tied hand and foot and carried off
to prison. My comrades were quarrelling amongst themselves as to the
cause of the man's imprisonment; but, mindful of the advice I had
received, I was careful to abstain from any interference. The following
day, when I had gone to my house for a short time, I was suddenly
summoned by the Khalifa, and found several of the Kadis with him. In
compliance with his orders, I seated myself down with them, and he began
to speak. Turning to the assembly, he informed them that he had
continually urged me to be loyal, that he cared for me as a father cared
for his son, and that he had steadily refused to believe the numerous
accusations which were, from time to time, brought up against me; and
then, turning to me, he completed his speech with the Arabic proverb,
"Where there is no fire, there is no smoke," adding, "but with you there
is a great deal of smoke. The messenger said yesterday that you are a
Government spy, and that your monthly salary is paid to your
representative in Cairo, who forwards it to you here. He affirms that he
has seen your signature in the Government office in Egypt, and that you
assisted Yusef el Gasis to escape; he adds, moreover, that you are
pledged to the English, in the event of an attack on Omdurman, to seize
the powder and ammunition stores, which they know are situated opposite
to your house. We have at once had the man imprisoned, for he formerly
escaped from here; what have you to say in your defence?"

"Sire!" I replied, "God is merciful, and you are just. I am no spy: I
have never had any communication with the Government; and it is
absolutely untrue that I receive a salary which is forwarded to me here.
My brothers, your mulazemin, who go in and out of my house, know that I
am often in the greatest want, and it is only my deep respect for you
which prevents me from complaining; but if he states that he has seen my
signature, then he is guilty of a second lie, for I am certain that he
is quite unable to read any European language. I will, if you wish,
write on a paper several names, and amongst them my own; if he can
discover it, then it will be a proof that he can read our language; but
that will not necessarily prove that I am a spy." "And what else have
you against the man?" asked the Khalifa. "What service has the man
rendered to Government," I continued; "that, supposing I am a spy, I
should trust this fugitive with my secrets. As far as Yusef el Gasis is
concerned, you, my master, well know that he escaped at a time when it
was absolutely impossible for me to have any communication with him. I,
who am always near you, have no intercourse with people who assist
others to fly; and even supposing I had, and that I were a traitor, it
would certainly be much more natural that I should have escaped myself.
It is quite possible the English may know that my house is opposite to
the powder magazine; for the man who, with your kind permission, brought
me the letters from my brothers and sisters knew it, and, in all
probability, told them about it. It is also possible that my relatives
with whom, at your express command, I have ceased to have any
communication, should make inquiries about my welfare through the
Government clerks and merchants who sometimes go from here to Cairo, and
who probably know the position of my house; but the assertion that, in
case of war, I had engaged myself to seize your ammunition stores, is
quite ridiculous. As far as I can judge, the Government would never dare
to attack you, who are the ever victorious and unconquerable Khalifa, in
your own country; and if this well-nigh impossible event should take
place, how do I know that I shall be in my present house at that time?
Moreover, at such a critical period, my hope and desire is to stand in
the front rank of your victorious troops, and there seek an opportunity
of proving my loyalty and devotion by shedding my blood in your cause.
Sire, I rely upon your justice, which is well known to all; will you
sacrifice one who has been for so many years your devoted servant, to
the whim of a Dongolawi who is one of your enemies?" "How do you know
that the man who has given evidence against you is a Dongolawi?" asked
the Khalifa, quickly. "Some time ago I saw the man at your gate with
Abderrahman Wad en Nejumi esh Shahid ("the martyr," as he was called
after his death),[16] and owing to his forwardness and impudence I had
to call on your mulazemin to remove him by main force; no doubt he now
wishes to revenge himself, and at the same time curry favour with you,
by casting suspicion on me. You to whom God has given wisdom to govern
your subjects, will also judge me righteously and fairly."

"I have summoned you here," said the Khalifa, after a long pause, "not
to judge you, but to show you that, in spite of the frequent attempts to
cast suspicion on you, I have in no way withdrawn my confidence in you.
Had I believed what the man said, I should not have imprisoned him; no
doubt you have enemies here, and there are probably envious people who
are jealous of your being near me. But beware! where there is no fire,
there is no smoke." He then signed to me to withdraw, and soon
afterwards the assembly broke up.

That night I asked one of my comrades whom I knew I could trust, to tell
me what the Khalifa had said after I had left. He told me that Abdullahi
admitted the man was a liar, but that there might be some truth in his
statement; he had also said I might possibly have enemies in Cairo who
were intriguing against me. This had also occurred to me whilst I was
speaking, but I did not mention it, as I hesitated to throw down all my
cards; now that he had thought of it himself, my silence had stood me in
good stead, for I could bring forward this argument in my defence,
should some fresh accusation be brought against me. But how long was I
to continue in this wretched position? How long was I to keep up this
constant strain of always standing on the defensive; how much longer
could my present relations with the Khalifa last? I knew he was only
waiting for an opportunity to make me harmless, for he was perfectly
well aware that I was at heart his enemy; but in truth I thanked God
most fervently that he treated me with greater leniency than he did the
rest. How difficult it was to carry out Madibbo's advice; but how true
it was that he who lives long sees much!

The following morning, after prayers, as I was on my way home, I was
overtaken by Gereifawi, who had succeeded Adlan and was on friendly
terms with me. "You are a rare visitor," said I, shaking hands with him;
"please God you have good reasons for it!" "Yes," said he; "but I am
come to disturb you. I require your house; and I must ask you to leave
it to-day. I will give you one in place of it which lies to the
southeast of the mosque, and in which the Khalifa's guests are usually
housed; it is somewhat smaller than your own, but you have only the road
between it and the mosque, and this will thoroughly suit a pious man
like you!" "All right," said I; "but tell me privately who sent you
here, the Khalifa or Yakub?" "Ah, that is a secret!" said he, laughing;
"but after your conversation yesterday with the Khalifa, you can surely
understand the reason; probably," he continued ironically, "our master,
out of his great love for you, wishes to have you in close proximity to
himself; your house is scarcely two hundred paces from his own. When may
I come and take over your old house?" "I shall have finished moving by
the evening," said I; "it will take me some little time to remove the
fodder for my horse and mule. Is the house I am to have uninhabited?"
"Of course it is. I have given orders for it to be cleaned, and will now
return to make the necessary arrangements; but you had better begin
moving at once, and I hope your new house will bring better luck than
your old one," said Gereifawi, leaving me.

Undoubtedly this was a very clear case of want of confidence in me on
the Khalifa's part. He was anxious to remove me from the neighbourhood
of the ammunition stores and powder magazine, which, in case of war, I
was supposed to seize. I now called together my household, and told them
to begin moving at once. They cursed the Khalifa freely, and called down
all the punishments of Heaven on his head. Little by little, year by
year, they had gone on building. They had dug wells fifty feet deep, had
planted lemon and pomegranate trees, which were just about to bear
fruit, and had, so to speak, made themselves comfortable. For me, the
move was quite immaterial. How I had prayed to leave this house, though
not in this way! However, as Gereifawi had said, perhaps the new house
would bring me better luck; and I was by no means the only man who had
been turned out of his abode at short notice. The whole portion of the
city lying north of the Khalifa's house had been vacated at a moment's
notice by the Ashraf and their relatives; and they had not even been
allowed to remove their furniture, nor had they received the smallest
compensation. They had been given a patch of stony ground to the west of
the town, where they had been ordered to build fresh houses. After all,
I was better off than they. Recent events had depressed me considerably,
and I saw that the situation was now becoming almost unbearable; but
more trouble was in store for me which was to throw completely into the
background that of which I now complained.

One of my acquaintances, a Darfur merchant who had frequently travelled
backwards and forwards to Egypt, Alexandria, and Syria, and who had
gradually understood the various nationalities, realised that I was an
Austrian. He had surmised correctly that, although a captive for many
years, and shut off from all communication with my own people, I still
took an intense interest in all that concerned my native land. He spoke
to me in the mosque, told me hurriedly about affairs in Egypt, and then
handed me an Egyptian newspaper of old date which, he said, had
accidentally come into his hands in Alexandria, and which contained an
article about Austrian affairs. Hurrying home, I opened the paper, and
found, to my dismay, the news of the death of our Crown Prince Rudolf. I
cannot describe the distress which this news caused me. I had served in
his regiment; and I had never given up hope that some day I should
return home, and have the pleasure of assuring him that, under all the
strange and sad circumstances of my eventful life, I had always
endeavoured to uphold the honour of an officer belonging to the Imperial
regiment. But what were the trials and troubles of one obscure
individual in comparison with this great national calamity,--nothing!

Again and again my mind turned to the grief of our beloved Emperor, to
whom we Austrians look up as to a father. What must he have felt and
suffered!

Here in the midst of this unsympathetic crowd my mind was filled with
these sad thoughts; but I did not dare show that I was affected. It
required all my self-control to hide from the rude gaze of the Mahdists
the expressions of distress which came over my face when I thought of my
beloved home; and, in the internal struggle which was going on almost
continuously, I sometimes longed for the time when an end should be put
to my wretched existence. To-day all the old sores had broken out
afresh. The man would have done me a far greater service had he kept
back the newspaper. It had only brought fresh trouble upon me, and
depressed me more than ever. My comrades at the Khalifa's door--ignorant
of the real cause of my sorrow--advised me to appear as cheerful as
possible, and to show no displeasure about my enforced removal to
another house, as the Khalifa was sure to have instructed his spies to
watch me carefully, and see how I took his unwelcome order. I therefore
tried to look as unconcerned as possible, and, to account for my
depression, I pretended to be unwell,--what a life of dissimulation!
Fortunately the Khalifa was busied with other matters. A letter had
reached him from Ahmed Wad Ali at Gallabat, complaining of the treatment
he received at the hands of his superior, Zeki Tummal; and, a few days
afterwards, he arrived, in order to make his complaint personally. He
said that in his own name, and in the name of all the other Emirs, he
refused to put up with the continual insults and arbitrary confiscation
of property on the part of Zeki, whom he also accused of conspiring to
make himself independent. The Khalifa knew perfectly well that most of
these complaints arose from Zeki's unpopularity with his assistants. He
therefore wrote to him to at once refund all the confiscated property,
and to accord to his Emirs the treatment to which their position
entitled them. At the same time, he instructed Ahmed Wad Ali to return
forthwith to Gallabat, and gave him secret orders to watch closely his
chief's movements, and personally report to him.

Abu Girga, who by this time had been recalled from Kassala, and had been
replaced there by Mussaid, being a Dongolawi, was considered by the
Khalifa to be a source of danger in Omdurman. Under the pretext,
therefore, of sending reinforcements to Reggaf, he despatched him with
two steamers up the White Nile, and, at the same time, Omar Saleh was
recalled to give a report of affairs in Equatoria. Abu Girga was
nominated Emir of the whole country, and commander of all the rifle and
spear men; but, at the same time, Mukhtar Wad Abaker, one of the
Khalifa's relatives, was appointed to superintend him.

A few days after the steamers had left, the Khalifa fell seriously ill
with an attack of typhus fever. All Omdurman watched the course of the
illness with the most intense anxiety, for his death would have been the
signal for a complete change in the administration of the country.
Khalifa Ali Wad Helu, who, according to Mahdist law, should be the
successor, watched the illness with almost breathless interest; and his
followers and tribe showed such deep concern that they fell under the
suspicion of wishing to seize the reins of government. The Khalifa's
powerful constitution, however, got the better of the malady; and it
seemed as if the wretched inhabitants of the Sudan had not been
sufficiently punished, and that God did not yet intend to remove from
them this terrible scourge. After an illness of about three weeks,
Abdullahi took the first possible opportunity of appearing before his
followers, who greeted him with frantic acclamations,--the outcome, in
the majority of cases, of a desire merely to make a noise. Only his own
relatives and some of the western Arabs really rejoiced at his recovery.
But the Khalifa had no delusions about the imaginary sentiment to which
his followers had given vent during his illness. He knew perfectly well
that in showing the preference to his own tribe, he had given umbrage to
many of the western Arabs, who, being strangers in the land, it was most
necessary to retain on his side. The inhabitants of the Nile valley and
of the Gezira, the majority of whom were Jaalin and Danagla, were his
enemies; but, disarmed, and their property confiscated, he had made them
powerless, and every now and then he sent considerable detachments of
them to reinforce Darfur, Gallabat, and Reggaf. He did not hide from
himself that Khalifa Ali and his followers were anxious to step into his
shoes; but he knew that they would never be foolish enough to attempt to
carry out their plans by main force, as the Ashraf had done.

Now that I had my abode close to him, he was more suspicious than ever
of me. He continually inquired of my comrades if this strict supervision
did not make me indignant, and he did all he could to find fault with my
conduct; but, fortunately, the mulazemin were on friendly terms with me,
and always reported favourably of me. At the same time, they secretly
warned me that the Khalifa's dislike of me was increasing, and that I
must be most careful.

One day, in the month of December, 1892, when I had just left the
Khalifa's door to take a short rest, one of the mulazemin summoned me to
the Khalifa's presence. I found him in the reception room, surrounded by
his Kadis, and the threats and reprimands which I had received on the
occasion of Taib Haj Ali's calumny were still fresh in my mind. I was
therefore considerably dismayed when the Khalifa, without returning my
salute, ordered me to take my seat amongst the judges. "Take this
thing," said he, after a short pause, and in a very severe tone, "and
see what it contains." I at once arose and took in both hands the object
he gave me, and then sat down again. It consisted of a brass ring of
about four centimetres in diameter, attached to which was a small metal
case about the size and shape of a revolver cartridge. An attempt had
been made to open it, and I could plainly see that it contained a paper.
This was indeed an anxious moment for me. Could it be a letter from my
relations, or from the Egyptian Government; and had the messenger who
brought it been captured? Whilst I was engaged in opening the case with
the knife which had been given me, I turned over in my mind how I should
act, and what I should say; and, as good luck would have it, I had not
on this occasion to have recourse to dissimulation. Pulling out two
small papers, and opening them, I found inscribed on them, in minute but
legible handwriting, in German, French, English, and Russian languages
the following:--

    This crane has been bred and brought up on my estate at Ascania
    Nova, in the Province of Tauride, in South Russia. Whoever
    catches or kills this bird is requested to communicate with me,
    and inform me where it occurred.

    (Signed) F. R. FALZ-FEIN.
    September, 1892.

I now raised my head, which hitherto I had kept closely bent down; and
the Khalifa asked, "Well, what do the papers contain?" "Sire," I
replied, "this case must have been fastened to the neck of a bird which
has been killed. Its owner, who lives in Europe, has requested that any
one who finds the bird should let him know where it was caught or
killed." "You have spoken the truth," said the Khalifa, in a somewhat
more amiable tone; "the bird was killed by a Shaigi near Dongola, and
the cartridge case was found attached to its neck. He took it to the
Emir Yunes, whose secretary was unable to decipher the writing of the
Christian, and he therefore forwarded it to me. Tell me now what is
written on the paper?" I translated the message, word for word, and, at
the Khalifa's command also tried to describe the geographical position
of the country from which the bird had come, and the distance it had
travelled before it was killed. "This is one of the many devilries of
those unbelievers," he said, at last, "who waste their time in such
useless nonsense. A Mohammedan would never have attempted to do such a
thing."

He then ordered me to hand over the case to his secretary, and signed to
me to withdraw; but I managed to take one more hurried glance at the
paper,--Ascania Nova, Tauride, South Russia, I repeated over and over
again to imprint it on my memory. The mulazemin at the door anxiously
awaited my return; and when I came out from the presence of my
tyrannical master with a placid countenance, they seemed greatly
pleased. On my way to my house, I continued to repeat to myself the name
of the writer and his residence, and determined, that should Providence
ever grant me my freedom, I should not fail to let him know what had
happened to his bird.

In accordance with orders, Mahmud Ahmed now returned to Omdurman with
all his available troops (about five thousand) from Darfur, leaving
there only sufficient men for the garrison. He pitched his camp at Dem
Yunes on the south side of the city.

Once more I underwent a period of considerable trial. The Khalifa again
instituted a series of military manoeuvres for all the troops in
Omdurman; and, as usual, they resulted in the wildest confusion. I had
to perform the duties of aide-de-camp, and invariably had to bear the
blame for everything that went wrong; but all things come to an end, and
at last Mahmud Ahmed was ordered back to Gallabat, after his troops had
renewed their oath of allegiance, in return for which they received some
new jibbas.

The Khalifa now turned his attention to the Equatorial regions, where
Abu Girga resided as nominal Governor, and despatched two steamers with
three hundred men, under the command of his relative Arabi Dafalla, to
Reggaf with instructions to depose Abu Girga, and throw him into chains.
It was abundantly clear that the latter had only been sent to Reggaf to
get him out of the way. Dafalla's departure was also taken advantage of
to exile Khaled, who had been lying heavily chained in the Saier.

Dafalla was instructed to extend the Mahdist territory as far as
possible in all directions, and to send back to Omdurman as many slaves
and as much ivory as he could obtain. Whilst the expedition was being
got ready, the Khalifa, under the pretext of giving Zeki Tummal special
verbal instructions regarding an intended campaign against the Italians,
recalled him to Omdurman. Ahmed Wad Ali had faithfully carried out his
secret instructions, which had resulted in the recall of his chief. A
few days after the steamers had left, Zeki arrived at Omdurman
accompanied by some of the Emirs whom he looked upon as friendly. During
his absence, he had nominated Ahmed Wad Ali as his representative, and
had ordered him to await his return at Gedaref. The Khalifa, to all
outward appearance, received Zeki in the most friendly manner possible;
and, a few days after his arrival, in spite of their orders, Ahmed Wad
Ali and the other Emirs arrived at Omdurman, and were frequently
received in secret audience by Abdullahi. They brought proofs of Zeki's
duplicity and disobedience to the Khalifa's commands in not restoring
the property which he had confiscated; and they showed how he had
subverted his instructions by inducing his men to become participators
in a conspiracy by which he should become independent. The Khalifa and
his brother Yakub took counsel together, and agreed to make him harmless
once and for all. They thought that if they merely removed him from his
position, dissensions might arise amongst his men. On the following
morning, therefore, the unsuspecting Zeki, relying on the former
services he had rendered, and anticipating merely a reprimand, was
enticed into Yakub's house, where he was immediately seized from behind
by four men, his sword wrenched from him, and his hands tied behind his
back. He had frequently spoken disrespectfully of Yakub and Kadi Ahmed,
saying that, in comparison with a brave warrior like himself, they were
little better than women, and were only happy in receiving presents and
leading comfortable and voluptuous lives. Disarmed and bound, he was now
brought, a miserable captive, before his master, who awaited him in an
adjoining court.

"Well, my fine hero, where is your courage now?" said Yakub. "You owed
your promotion to me," said Kadi Ahmed, who, when Zeki had been
nominated to the supreme command, had conveyed the news to him in
Gallabat; "and now you have to thank me for your present humiliation.
Praise be to God, who has preserved me to this day in order that I may
see you standing thus before me."

Livid with rage, and grinding his teeth, Zeki answered, "I have been
surprised and betrayed. Were I in an open field, not a hundred men like
you would terrify me. I know I am lost; but after my death you will try
to find men like me to take my place, and you will not find them." At a
signal from Yakub, he was hurried off to the general prison, where his
body was covered with as much weight of iron as it could possibly bear.
He was then removed to a small detached stone hut, deprived of all
communication with others, and not even allowed sufficient bread and
water to sustain life, and consequently, after an imprisonment of twenty
days, he succumbed to hunger and thirst.

On his arrest, his house was sequestrated, and in it were found fifty
thousand Maria Theresa and Medjidi dollars, and quantities of gold rings
and other jewellery looted from the Abyssinians. Some of the Black
soldiers who were devoted to him, and had accompanied him from Gallabat,
were also thrown into chains and died of starvation.

Ahmed Wad Ali now succeeded Zeki in the supreme command, and at once
returned to Gedaref, whither, in the meantime, the entire army had moved
from Gallabat. In accordance with the Khalifa's instructions, he
confiscated the whole of his predecessor's property, consisting of
horses, camels, cattle, and slaves, which he despatched, together with
all his wives (numbering one hundred and sixty-four), and twenty-seven
children, to Omdurman. The Khalifa kept the cattle and slaves for
himself, and distributed the childless widows amongst his followers; but
he married the mothers to his slaves, so that the children, whose father
had been a slave, should be brought up as slaves. Seven of Zeki's
brothers and near relatives were cruelly murdered by Ahmed Wad Ali; and
one of his sisters was flogged to death on the pretext that she had
concealed money.

Wad Ali, now in supreme command, was anxious to refute any idea of
timidity, and sought to gain military renown. He obtained the Khalifa's
permission to undertake operations against the Arab tribes living
between Kassala and the Red Sea, who were subject to the Italians; but
he received distinct orders not to attack any troops quartered in forts.
He was allowed to utilise the services of the Kassala garrison under
Mussaid Gaidum, and now made all preparations for a campaign. Leaving
Gedaref with his army, early in November, 1893, he joined the Kassala
troops, and his force numbered in all some four thousand five hundred
riflemen, four thousand spearmen, and two hundred and fifty horsemen,
and advanced against the eastern Arab tribes,--the Beni Amer, Hadendoa,
and others. The latter, apprised of his intention, drove off their
cattle and retired before him; but at Agordat he came up with the
Italian troops, who were in an entrenched position. As they were in such
small numbers, he resolved, in spite of the Khalifa's instructions, to
attack them; but he was heavily defeated, and himself killed, together
with his two principal leaders, Abdalla Wad Ibrahim and Abder Rasul, and
a number of Emirs. The loss in killed and missing was estimated at
about two thousand, and these belonged, almost without exception, to the
Gedaref force, because Mussaid and the Kassala troops did not come to
Ahmed Wad Ali's assistance. Had the Italian troops been in a position to
pursue the Mahdists, who were retreating in wild disorder on Kassala,
there is little doubt the latter would have been almost entirely
annihilated.

The news of the defeat and death of Ahmed Wad Ali caused the greatest
consternation in Omdurman, though in public the Khalifa tried to appear
unconcerned. He affirmed that the losses sustained by the Italians were
infinitely greater than those suffered by his troops, and that he
thanked God, Ahmed Wad Ali and some of his leaders had died the death of
martyrs on the field of battle, fighting against the cursed Christians.
In reality, however, he spent many sleepless nights; for he feared that
the Italians, encouraged by their victory, would be induced to advance
on Kassala, and he fully realised that, in view of the panic which
prevailed, they would have no difficulty in seizing and occupying it. It
was not till some days had elapsed, and he had received news that the
enemy had not quitted its position, that he calmed down somewhat, and
began to consider whom he should nominate as Wad Ali's successor. The
army of the latter had been dispersed throughout the Gedaref districts;
and it was necessary to despatch reinforcements without delay. The
inhabitants of Omdurman, however, saw in the defeat of Wad Ali, Heaven's
just retribution for the death of Zeki Tummal, who, though he had been
guilty of cruelty and oppression, had been the victim of intrigue and
false evidence. They were justly enraged against the Khalifa, who in his
vengeance had not been satisfied with Zeki Tummal's murder, but had also
massacred his relatives and seized his women and children.

The Khalifa now nominated his cousin Ahmed Fedil as commander of the
Gedaref army, and gave him strict injunctions to remain entirely on the
defensive. He proceeded to his post by way of Kassala, in order to
collect the scattered troops, who, after the defeat at Agordat, had
forced themselves on the villagers, and were harrying the country for
food. Once again the Khalifa's equanimity was upset by a rumour that the
Italians now intended advancing on Kassala; but this news was followed
soon afterwards by a contradiction, and he became pacified. Indeed, he
had publicly announced his intention of avenging Ahmed Wad Ali's defeat,
though in reality he had not the slightest idea of doing so; but, in his
ignorance, he believed that these false threats would prevent his
enemies from assuming the offensive. He also sent small detachments of
horse and spear men to Gedaref.

A few months had elapsed since this catastrophe, when one day, just
after morning prayers, three men presented themselves at the door of the
Khalifa's house, and urgently demanded to be taken before him. I at once
recognised them as Baggara Emirs, who had been stationed at Kassala, and
from the expression of their faces I could see that the news they
brought would not be welcome to the Khalifa. In a few minutes, they were
admitted, and soon afterwards a considerable disturbance took place
round the Khalifa's door. Khalifa Ali Wad Helu, Yakub, as well as all
the Kadis, received a sudden summons to attend at a council. The
Khalifa's suspicions had been verified, and Kassala, after a short
fight, had been captured by the Italians.

[Illustration: The Khalifa inciting his troops to attack Kassala.]

It was impossible to withhold this news from the public. The ombeija
was sounded, the great war-drums were beaten, the horses were saddled,
and the Khalifa, accompanied by all his mulazemin and an immense number
of horse and spear men, solemnly rode down to the banks of the Nile.
Arrived here, he forced his horse into the river till the water reached
its knees; and, drawing out his sword, and pointing towards the east, he
shouted out in a loud voice, "Allahu akbar! Allahu akbar!" (God is most
great!). Each time the cry was taken up by the immense crowd; but the
majority were inwardly rejoicing at the Khalifa's discomfiture. They
longed for him to receive fresh humiliation, thinking thereby to lighten
the terrible yoke they bore. After this display, the Khalifa turned his
horse about, came back to the river bank, dismounted, and sat down on
his sheepskin. A great crowd now collected round him; and he informed
them of the fall of Kassala, declaring that his followers had been taken
unawares by enormous numbers of the enemy, just after morning prayers,
and had been forced to retire. He stated, however, that all the war
material, women, and children had been saved, that the losses had been
insignificant, whilst the enemy had suffered so heavily that they now
bitterly regretted having taken the town. Even his most devoted
adherents well knew that these words were a mere pretext for covering a
disgraceful defeat. Almost immediately after the three Emirs had arrived
in Omdurman, it was known far and wide that the garrison had been
surprised, that partly from fear, and partly owing to the unpopularity
of Mussaid, they had refused to fight; and, almost without offering any
resistance, they had retired towards Goz Regeb. The Khalifa now realised
that his capital was more fully exposed than ever to a successful
advance on the part of his enemies; but he had not yet learnt all; and
when it eventually came to his ears that his faithful followers, instead
of gladly laying down their lives for the cause, had lost the fanatical
spirit which had for so many years made them the terror of their
enemies, he understood that not only in Kassala had public opinion
changed, but that throughout the whole country his popularity had waned.
He now took occasion to announce publicly that Kassala was merely a
minor position of no special importance; but that in a short time he
meant to retake it, as well as the entire country up to the shores of
the Red Sea. He returned home late that evening, and held a council with
his brother Yakub and the Kadis, regarding the precautions which should
now be taken. He must have bitterly regretted the absence of his chief
Kadi, Ahmed Wad Ali, who, though he neither sought nor took his advice,
had been his faithful friend and servant for the last ten years. As
chief judge, he had acquired an immense influence in the country; and,
considering the circumstances, he had during that time collected very
considerable wealth. Upwards of a thousand slaves worked on his immense
estates. He employed merchants to take the produce, such as India-rubber
and ostrich feathers, to Egypt. He possessed immense herds of cattle,
and quantities of camels and magnificent horses; but his most coveted
possession was his harem, in which were collected a large number of
lovely women and female slaves. All this had roused the cupidity of
Yakub and of the Khalifa's young son. The former was intensely irritated
against Ahmed, as he seldom paid the smallest attention to his opinions
or proposals. Even the Khalifa had become jealous of his influence, and
lent a willing ear to Yakub's insinuations that he abused his power, and
made use of his position to increase his own wealth. Under the pretext
that Ahmed had acted contrary to the instructions which the Khalifa had
specially laid down, he himself, as President of the Court of Kadis, had
sentenced him to perpetual imprisonment. Thus a just retribution had at
length fallen on the head of this unscrupulous judge, who had ruthlessly
condemned numbers of innocent persons, had robbed them of all they
possessed, had turned wives and children into widows and orphans, and
had perpetrated every description of injustice. He had been seized by
the Black soldiers, thrown into prison, and lost all his wealth, whilst
the Khalifa, his son, and his brother Yakub had rifled his harem of the
best and prettiest women, and distributed the remainder amongst their
followers.

The Khalifa knew perfectly well the difficulties of re-capturing
Kassala; but, in order to make a show of doing something, he sent
instructions to Osman Digna, who was at Adarama on the Atbara, some
three days' march from Berber, to join Mussaid at Goz Regeb with all his
available forces. At the same time, he ordered Ahmed Fedil to make a
military post of a thousand rifles at El Fasher on the Atbara, about one
and a half days' journey from Kassala. He also sent detachments of
troops from Omdurman to Asubri on the Atbara, midway between El Fasher
and Goz Regeb. He continued to assert most resolutely that he intended
shortly to advance on Kassala; but all these arrangements were made
entirely with a view to establishing a series of defensive posts along
the line of the Atbara, whilst the troops he was constantly collecting
were intended to oppose the advance of the enemy towards Omdurman.

In the midst of all this disturbance and excitement, the satisfactory
news arrived that a messenger sent by Arabi from Reggaf had arrived at
Omdurman from Katena, a town on the White Nile. Two steamers soon
followed, bringing cargoes of ivory and slaves; and, in a day or two,
four hundred male slaves were marched with great pomp and ceremony
through the city, as proof of Dafalla's successes in the Equatorial
regions. As a matter of fact, the latter had attacked and defeated a
detachment of Emin Pasha's troops who had separated from the main body,
and had been living independently, and at their own risk, in a track of
country governed by Fadl el Maula, one of Emin's subalterns. On the
Pasha's departure, this man had entered into communication with the
advanced agents of the Congo Free State, and had agreed with them that,
if they should assist him to re-occupy the Equatorial Province, he would
enter their service. His real intentions, however, were to remain
independent, and though nominally a servant of the Congo Free State, to
derive from them as much profit as he could for his own personal
benefit. Misled by false information, Fadl el Maula had ventured close
to the station of Reggaf, which he believed to be only lightly held by
the Mahdists; but he discovered his mistake too late. He beat a rapid
retreat, but was followed up and overtaken, after several days' march,
by Arabi Dafalla, who surprised his camp whilst most of the men were out
on a foray. Fadl el Maula himself was killed, with most of the men in
camp, whilst defending their wives and children; and Arabi captured a
quantity of loot, all the women and children, and a number of rifles.
Amongst the trophies he sent to Omdurman were four Congo Free State
flags made of blue bunting, with a five-pointed yellow star in the
centre, also two suits of black uniform with buttons, on which the words
"Travail et Progrès" were engraved. This was the first time I had seen
the badge of the Congo Free State, of the existence of which I had
heard; but I had no notion of its size or the extent of its boundaries.
Several European letters had also been found in Fadl el Maula's camp;
but the Khalifa did not show them to me. He preferred to remain in
ignorance of their contents, rather than that I should gain some insight
into affairs in those regions. The brilliance of this last success of
his arms was, however, considerably dimmed by the news which came soon
afterwards, that Christian agents from the south and west were advancing
towards the Equatorial Provinces. Arabi had received information that a
force was in Uganda, and that Christian troops were advancing from the
western districts of Central Africa; and he appealed for instructions as
to how to act. A reinforcement of four hundred men was at once
despatched to Reggaf; and orders were sent to him to withdraw all
outlying posts, should he be threatened, but under no circumstances to
abandon Reggaf.

When the expedition had been sent against Emin Pasha, it was the
Khalifa's intention not to acquire more territory in this direction, but
to make a station from which raids could be made on the Black countries,
in order to procure ivory and slaves.

After the steamer had left with reinforcements, the Khalifa again turned
his attention to affairs in the east. He ordered all the Jaalin in
Omdurman to proceed to Asubri, and nominated Hamed Wad Ali, the brother
of Ahmed Wad Ali, to the command of this post. He subsequently
despatched thither the Danagla, as well as a number of Arab horsemen to
Gedaref; and the camel-owning Arabs were instructed to supply three
thousand camels, of which a thousand were incorporated with the mounted
corps at Gedaref, whilst the remainder were used to transport grain from
Rufaa and Abu Haraz on the Blue Nile to Asubri, which, having been
abandoned by its former inhabitants, was now left entirely uncultivated;
and in consequence the troops there were suffering great privations. By
these measures, the Khalifa imagined that he had turned the line of the
Atbara into a sort of wall, by which he hoped to block the enemy's
advance; but it seemed as if he were likely to have no rest this year.

Mahmud Ahmed now reported that Christians had entered the Bahr el Ghazal
districts, and were attempting to win over the native tribes, with whom
they had already made treaties. They had arrived, he said, at Hofret en
Nahas (the copper mines near Kalaka on the southwestern Darfur
frontier). This news was of the greatest importance; and the Khalifa had
every reason to feel alarmed and uneasy.

When Egypt governed the Sudan, it was from the Bahr el Ghazal Provinces
that they recruited the men for the Sudanese battalions, who had come
either of their own free-will or had been forcibly impressed. Owing to
the climate and plenteous rainfall, the country is more highly
cultivated than any portion of the Nile valley lying between Kowa and
Reggaf. Besides, the majority of the tribes who inhabit these districts
are, owing to internal dissensions, incapable of uniting, and would thus
rather facilitate than retard the advance of any foreign power wishing
to make itself master of the province. For the Khalifa, however, the
possession of this country is of vital importance. Its ruler, he knows,
virtually holds the Sudan in his hands. These various Black tribes have
no love for the Arab slave-hunters, and would aid any power which would
guarantee their protection. The recruitment of four or five thousand
local levies, possessing fighting qualities of a high order, would, for
such a power, be a matter of no difficulty; and in the space of four or
five years an army of from fifteen to twenty thousand men might be
raised, by which not only Darfur and Kordofan, but indeed the whole
Sudan, could be conquered.

Abdullahi, therefore, was not slow to realise the situation; and he at
once gave orders to Mahmud Ahmed to despatch a force from Southern
Darfur into these districts, and drive out the strangers who had dared
to penetrate the Bahr el Ghazal Province.

In compliance with these instructions, the Emir Khatem Musa, with a
considerable force, was sent south from Shakka into the northern Bahr el
Ghazal districts, and the Faroghé, Kâra, Bongo, and other frontier
tribes with whom the Europeans had made treaties, being left without
support, at once submitted to the Mahdists who occupied their countries.

One day, I was summoned before the Khalifa, who handed to me several
documents written in French, which he ordered me to translate. They
included two letters from Lieutenant de La Kéthulle to his assistants,
containing various orders and instructions. They had been originally in
the hands of the Sheikh of Faroghé, who had handed them over to Khatem
Musa. In addition to these, the Khalifa showed me a treaty which had
been drawn up between Sultan Hamed Wad Musa of the Faroghé and the
representative of the Congo Free State, which was to the effect that,--

1. Sultan Hamed Wad Musa, chief of the Faroghé tribe, acknowledged the
suzerainty of the Congo Free State, and placed himself under its
protection.

2. Sultan Hamed Wad Musa bound himself to enter into commercial
relations with the Congo Free State, and establish intercourse between
it and the Darfur frontier districts, and agreed to give protection to
all officials of that State travelling in his country.

3. The Congo Free State bound itself to assist Sultan Hamed Wad Musa in
all his undertakings, and uphold his authority in the country.

This treaty was signed in August, 1894, by Hamed Wad Musa and the
representative of the Congo Free State; and was witnessed by Sultan
Zemio and the Sultan of Tiga, the names of the two latter being written
in European characters.

I hurriedly translated these papers verbally to the Khalifa, and was
much interested in seeing how, on this occasion, his curiosity got the
better of his suspicions; though he did all he could to prevent me from
noticing this.

"I did not summon you," he said, "merely to translate these letters,
which, after all, are of not the smallest importance to me, though I
have instructed Mahmud Ahmed to drive out these Christians, who are only
travellers, and in small numbers, from the Bahr el Ghazal Province; but
I have also a proposal to make to you. I look upon you as one of us,--as
my friend and faithful adherent,--and I have decided to publicly make
known this fact by giving to you as a wife one of my cousins,--one of my
next of kin. What have you to say to this?" This offer did not greatly
surprise me; for he had several times hinted as much. I was perfectly
well aware that his object was not to publicly show appreciation of me,
but to have me carefully watched in my own house. He wished to place me
under surveillance in order to discover if I had any secret relations
with outside countries. Through trusty friends, I had ascertained that
he earnestly sought some plausible grounds for making me, as he called
it, "harmless;" but in doing so he wished to justify his action before
the public, by showing me more consideration as a foreigner than if I
had been a native. I knew too well, however, that a man of his
unscrupulous determination, who had not spared his best friends, such as
Ibrahim Adlan and Kadi Ahmed, would not hesitate to take full advantage
of the slightest proof of my disloyalty in order to rid himself of me.

"Sire," I replied, "may God bless you, and give you victory over all
your enemies. I feel highly honoured by your magnanimous offer; but hear
of me, I pray you, the truth. Your relative is not merely descended
from royalty, but from the Prophet himself. She therefore deserves to
be treated with every consideration. Unfortunately, I have a very quick
temper, and at times have great difficulty in controlling myself.
Domestic quarrels would undoubtedly arise, which might be the cause of
estrangement between you, my master, and myself. My only desire is to
remain in your greatest favour. I pray God this may ever be so; for I
dread the occurrence of anything which might cause me to fall into
disfavour."

"I have known you now intimately for ten years," said the Khalifa; "and
I have never known you to be thoughtless or quick-tempered. I have often
presented you with wives, and they have never complained to me of
domestic quarrels. It is true, however, that I have heard you have
either made presents of them to your servants, or have given them their
liberty. It seems to me that although you pretend to be one of us, you
really wish to adhere to the manners and customs of your tribe. [He did
not refer to religion, as I suppose he thought that might hurt my
feelings.] I mean that you wish to have only one wife."

"Sire," I replied, "you have often honoured me with presents of slaves;
but you surely do not wish me to be their slave. If I have married them
to my servants, or sent them away, it is because they have been
disobedient, or have behaved badly. You have been misinformed, if you
think that I wish to adhere to the custom of my country to have only one
wife; for I have already three."

"Very well," he said, "I believe you; and so you refuse to marry my
cousin?"

"Sire," I replied, "I do not refuse; but I merely inform you of my
uncertain temper, so that I may prevent unpleasantness in the future.
Indeed, I am highly honoured by your kind offer; and I beg you to try
and see if I am worthy of it." He understood perfectly well that what I
had said was tantamount to a refusal; and he closed the conversation by
making a sign to me to withdraw. This offer had placed me in a most
difficult position. I thoroughly understood the Khalifa. By not joyfully
accepting his offer, I had hurt his pride; and now I longed more than
ever for liberty. Some months before, I had sent a Sudanese merchant to
Cairo, and had begged the Austrian Consul-General to place, through him,
the necessary means at my disposal to effect my escape. But how often
had I attempted negotiations of this sort through merchants and others,
and how often had I been doomed to disappointment and failure.




CHAPTER XVI.

MISCELLANEOUS REMARKS.

    The Person and Characteristics of Khalifa Abdullahi--The Fate of
    the Mahdist Chronicler--The Princesses of Darfur--The Khalifa's
    Family Life--His Harem--The Organisation of his
    Body-guard--Enforced Attendance at the Mosque--The Postal
    System--Military Parades--Elevation of the Western Arabs and
    Oppression of the River Tribes--The Military Situation and
    Strength--Guns and Ammunition--Revenue and Expenditure--Courage.


I will now say a few words regarding the Khalifa's person and his
characteristics.

Sayed Abdullahi Ibn Sayed Mohammed belongs to the Taaisha section of the
Baggaras (as all cattle-owning nomad Arabs are called). This section
inhabits the country in the southwestern portion of Darfur; and the
Khalifa himself is descended from the Aulad Om Sura of the Jubarat
family. I have already referred to Abdullahi's early life, and how he
had established a connection with the slave-hunting Arabs, when still
quite a youth. He joined the Mahdi at the age of thirty-five, and was
then a slim and active, though powerfully built man; but latterly he has
become very stout, and his lightness of gait has long since disappeared.
He is now forty-nine years of age, but looks considerably older; and the
hair of his beard is almost white. At times, the expression of his face
is one of charming amiability, but more generally it is one of dark
sternness, in which tyranny and unscrupulous resolution are unmistakably
visible. He is rash and quick-tempered, acting often without a moment's
consideration; and when in this mood, even his own brother dares not
approach him. His nature is suspicious to a degree to every one, his
nearest relatives and members of his household included. He admits that
loyalty and fidelity are rare qualities, and that those who have to deal
with him invariably conceal their real feelings in order to gain their
own ends. He is most susceptible to flattery, and consequently receives
an inordinate amount from every one. No one dares to speak to him
without referring, in the most fulsome terms, to his wisdom, power,
justice, courage, generosity, and truthfulness. He accepts this absurd
adulation with the greatest pleasure and satisfaction; but woe to him
who in the slightest degree offends his dignity.

The following episode will give the reader a fair idea of his arbitrary
nature:--

A certain Kadi named Ismail Wad Abdel Kader, who had been well educated
in Cairo, had gained great favour with the Mahdi by having written a
laudatory account of his early victories. This had so fully gratified
the great religious reformer that he instructed Abdel Kader to continue
to chronicle the various important events as they happened, and further
instructed his principal Emirs to forward to him detailed histories of
all that occurred within their respective commands. In time, these
chronicles grew into an elaborate historical and inflated statement of
Mahdist rule in the Sudan; and, after the Mahdi's death, the Khalifa,
who had installed Abdel Kader as state chronicler, ordered the
continuance of the work. One day, however, during a pleasure-party, the
historian had been overheard to say that present affairs in the Sudan,
as compared with those in Egypt, might be described by the following
simile: The Khalifa might be considered as the Khedive Ismail Pasha,
whilst, in the same proportion, he, Abdel Kader, might be likened to
Ismail Pasha el Mofettish, who had been the Viceroy's principal adviser
and friend. This thoughtless statement was immediately reported to
Abdullahi, who, furious at such a comparison, at once ordered the judges
to assemble and make a full inquiry into the matter; and if Abdel Kader
had actually made such a statement, he should be at once condemned. To
the Kadis, he argued thus: "The Mahdi is the representative of the
Prophet Mohammed, and I am his successor. Who, therefore, in the whole
world holds so high a position as I? Who can be nobler than the direct
descendant of the Prophet?" The inquiry proved the guilt of Abdel Kader,
who, at the Khalifa's command, was thrown into chains and transported to
Reggaf. "What business has he to compare affairs here with those of
Egypt?" said the pompous Khalifa. "If he wishes to compare himself to a
Pasha, then I, the descendant of the Prophet, will never demean myself
to be put on a par with the Khedive,--a mere Turk." I suppose by these
assertions he thought to impress the populace. The stupid man too, in
his offended dignity, did not stop here. He at once ordered all the
chronicles (of which several copies had been made) to be instantly
burnt; but I heard privately that his secretary, who was being
frequently referred to by the Khalifa on the subject of the early events
of his reign, secreted one copy for private reference; and if these
strange chronicles could only be procured and translated into European
languages, they would expose to the civilised world the methods of
Mahdism in all its barefaced mendacity.

Abdullahi's pride and confidence in his own powers are indescribable. He
firmly believes that he is capable of doing anything and everything; and
as he pretends to act under Divine inspiration, he never hesitates to
appropriate the merits of others as his own. For example, he stated that
the Mahdi's tomb, which had been built with immense labour and trouble
by the former Government architect Ismail, had been designed by himself
entirely in accordance with Divinely inspired plans. He ascribed Osman
Wad Adam's victory over Abu Gemmaiza, as well as Zeki Tummal's over King
John of Abyssinia, to the inspired orders which he pretended he had
issued. His character is a strange mixture of malice and cruelty. He
delights to annoy and cause disappointment; and he is never happier than
when he has brought people to complete destitution by confiscating
their property, throwing them into chains, robbing families wholesale,
seizing and executing all persons of tribal influence and authority, and
reducing entire races to a condition of powerless impotence.

During the Mahdi's lifetime, he was entirely responsible for the
severity of the proceedings enacted in his name, and for the merciless
manner in which he treated his defeated enemies. It was Abdullahi who
gave the order for no quarter at the storming of Khartum; and it was he
who subsequently authorised the wholesale massacre of the men, women,
and children. After the fall of that city, it was he who, for the period
of four days, declared the whole Shaigia tribe to be outlaws. When
distributing the captured women and children, he was utterly regardless
of their feelings. To separate children from their mothers, and to make
their re-union practically impossible by scattering them amongst
different tribes, was his principal delight. When Osman Wad Adam sent to
Omdurman the sisters of the late Sultan of Darfur, the Princesses Miriam
Isa Basi and Miriam Bakhita, he gave them their liberty, but took most
of their female relatives into his own harem, and distributed the
remainder amongst his followers; and, hearing that some Darfur people
who were residing in Omdurman had called on the Princesses, and offered
them presents, he had the latter arrested and made over as slaves to his
two Emirs, Hassib and Kanuna, who were on the point of starting for
Reggaf. In vain poor Bakhita's blind mother implored to be allowed to
accompany her daughter; but she was forcibly prevented by the Khalifa's
special orders, and died a few days later of a broken heart. Her
daughter threw herself into the river as the boat started. She was
saved, but subsequently died on the journey from fatigue and misery.
Ahmed Gurab, an Egyptian born in Khartum, who had quitted the city as a
merchant before the destruction of Hicks Pasha's army, had left behind
him his wife, who was a Sudanese, and his daughter. He eventually
returned to see them; and, on the day he arrived in Omdurman, he was
brought before the Khalifa, to whom he explained the reasons of his
return, and expressed a wish to enter his service. "I accept your
offer," said the Khalifa. "You will at once proceed to Reggaf, and fight
in the Holy Cause against the heathen." In vain the unfortunate man
begged and implored to remain with his wife and daughter, or at least to
be allowed to see them; but the Khalifa ordered his mulazemin to take
him at once on board the steamer, and guard him carefully, and on no
account permit him to see his family. With a smile of fiendish delight,
he said: "His fellow-passengers are Isa Basi and Bakhita. He may enjoy
their society as much as he likes, if their masters will allow him."

Without the smallest rhyme or reason, he has caused the death of
thousands of innocent people. He had the right hand and left foot of a
certain Omar publicly cut off in the market-place, because he had failed
to make lead, which he had said he could do, and for which purpose he
had received a small sum of money in advance. During the horrible
execution and mutilation of the Batahin, he had been present, and had
looked with pleasure on the slaughter of his victims. I have described
how his best friends and most faithful servants were victimised through
his caprice, and how he had ruthlessly seized for himself their wives
and daughters. Then what could be more cruel than his punishment of the
Ashraf? No doubt they were guilty of mutiny; but he might have exiled or
imprisoned them, instead of killing them with clubs and axes as if they
had been dogs; and yet these were the near relatives of his former lord
and master, the Mahdi.

In all intercourse with him, he demands the most complete humility and
submission. Persons entering his presence stand in front of him with
their hands crossed over their breasts and their eyes lowered to the
ground, awaiting his permission to be seated. In his audience chamber,
he is generally seated on an angareb, over which a palm-mat is spread,
and his sheepskin stretched out on it, whilst he leans against a large
roll of cotton cloth which forms a pillow. When those brought before
him are allowed to be seated, they take up a position as in prayers,
with their eyes fixed on the ground; and in this posture they answer the
questions put to them, and dare not move until permission is given them
to withdraw.

Even in the mosque, when prayers are over, and he converses on general
subjects, those in close proximity to him invariably maintain this
attitude. He is most particular that all persons brought before him
should keep their eyes downcast, whilst he himself scrutinises them most
carefully. Some years ago a Syrian named Mohammed Said, who had the
misfortune to have only one eye, happened to be near him when he was
delivering a religious lecture, and unintentionally cast his blind eye
in the direction of the Khalifa. The latter at once called me up, and
told me to tell the Syrian never to come near him again, and if he did
never to dare to look at him. At the same time he told me that every one
should be most careful to guard themselves against the evil eye. "For,"
said he, "nothing can resist the human eye. Illness and misfortunes are
generally caused by the evil eye."

In spite of his tyrannical nature, the Khalifa shows to greater
advantage in his private life. He is devoted to his eldest son Osman,
who is now twenty-one years of age, and who has been instructed in all
the commentaries of the Kuran by able Mohammedan teachers; but his
father never hesitated to change the teachers as often as his son
wished; and when Osman affirmed to his father that he was sufficiently
instructed, the latter at once withdrew his teachers. When he reached
his seventeenth year, he was married to his cousin, the daughter of his
uncle Yakub; and on this occasion the Khalifa departed from the strict
observances as regards marriage enjoined by the Mahdi, and arranged a
series of banquets extending over a period of eight days, to which
almost every inhabitant in Omdurman was invited. He had a large red
brick house built for his son in the space lying opposite to Yakub's
residence, and had it furnished with all the comfort available in the
Sudan. An attempt was even made to lay out a garden on the stony ground
within the enclosure. Shortly afterwards, he gave his son two more of
his female relatives in marriage, and innumerable concubines, which he
himself selected; but he declared, in the most emphatic manner, that he
would never permit him to marry a woman from any of the Nile valley
tribes. He watches over his son's intercourse with strangers with the
greatest jealousy, and considers it a most dangerous proceeding; and
when he heard that, in the perversity of youth, his son entirely
disregarded his injunctions, and held nightly orgies in his house, he
had a new residence built for him within the Omdurman wall close to his
own, so as to exercise greater supervision, and handed over his old
house to Yakub.

He married his own daughter to the Mahdi's son Mohammed, to whom he bore
no good will; whilst the latter was anxious to marry one of his own
relations, and had no love for the Khalifa's daughter. Abdullahi,
however, as father-in-law, guardian, and master, absolutely forbade him
to enter into any such alliance, and tried to insist on his affection
for his daughter, with the result that a complete estrangement was
brought about between man and wife, ending in a divorce; but the Khalifa
was so annoyed that, out of pure fear, Mohammed had to take her back,
and swear entire devotion to her for the rest of his life.

The Khalifa thought it incumbent on his position to maintain a large
establishment; and as this was also entirely in conformity with his own
inclinations, he gradually became possessor of a harem of over four
hundred wives. In accordance with the Mohammedan law, he has four legal
wives, who belong to free tribes; but, being a lover of change, he never
hesitates to divorce them at will, and take others in their places. The
other women of the household consist for the most part of young girls,
many of whom belong to tribes which have been forced to accept Mahdism,
and whose husbands and fathers fought against him. They are therefore
regarded as booty, and have only the rights and claims of concubines,
or, in some cases, of slaves. This large assortment of ladies varies in
colour from light brown to the deepest black, and comprises almost every
tribe in the Sudan. They are divided into groups of from fifteen to
twenty, presided over by a superior; and two or three of these groups
are placed under the orders of a free woman, who is generally a
concubine specially selected by the Khalifa. A certain amount of grain
and money is granted monthly to these superiors for the maintenance of
their charges; and they also receive means to purchase the necessary
cosmetics, consisting of various sorts of oils, grease, and scent. The
value of their clothing is regulated entirely by the comparative beauty,
position, and character of the wearers, and consists for the most part
of native-woven cotton cloth with particoloured borders, or of bright
silk or woollen shawls imported from Egypt. These are always distributed
by the Khalifa himself or by his chief eunuch. As the wearing of silver
jewellery was strictly prohibited by the Mahdi, mother-of-pearl buttons
and oblong strips of red coral and onyx, threaded together, are worn
round the wrists, ankles, and head. The hair is usually worn in
innumerable small plaits, which are arranged in all sorts of different
ways, and bedaubed with a quantity of oily and greasy scents; and to
European olfactory nerves the odour emanating from a Sudanese lady "en
grande toilette" is repulsive in the extreme. For the last few years the
wives of the upper classes have again taken to wearing gold and silver
jewellery; and the Khalifa's principal women indulge in these luxuries
to a greater extent than the rest. The latter live in a series of large
detached houses, something like barracks, surrounded by courts encircled
with high walls. Special women are maintained to watch over their state
of health; and they are obliged to report it to their master, the
Khalifa, from time to time. When he wishes to summon any lady in
particular to share his affections, he communicates his desire by means
of little boy eunuchs. Occasionally, he holds an inspection of his
entire household, and makes use of such opportunities to rid himself of
those of whom he is weary, in order to make room for new attractions.
Those disposed of in this way he generally passes on to his near
relatives, his special favourites, or his servants. The harem courts are
carefully guarded by eunuchs and the Black mulazemin. The women are
almost entirely cut off from intercourse with the outer world; and
perhaps once a year their female relations are allowed to converse with
them for only a short time.

The Khalifa's principal wife is called Sahra, and belongs to his own
tribe. She has shared with him from earliest days all his joys and
sorrows, and is the mother of his oldest children Osman and Kadija.
During the early years of his reign, he would only eat the simplest
food, cooked by her or under her superintendence. It consisted, as a
rule, merely of asida, roast meat, and chickens; but as his household
increased, he began to try the various sorts of cookery known to his new
wives, many of whom were acquainted with the Turkish and Egyptian
methods; and now, in place of the simple food, he indulges in far more
luxurious fare, though to outward appearance he still pretends to lead a
life of simplicity and abstinence. These innovations brought about a
quarrel between him and his wife Sahra, who pointed out that the new
dishes might be bewitched or poisoned, and might end in his death, with
the result that he twice sent her letters of separation; but, on the
strong representations of his brother Yakub and the other members of the
family, he was induced to cancel them.

He has in his service in all some twenty eunuchs, chief of whom is a
certain Abdel Gayum, who is also charged with the superintendence of
large quantities of land which are cultivated by slaves for the use of
the household; and it is his duty to purchase the necessary supplies of
grain, and have in readiness the sheep and cattle required for domestic
purposes. He also draws from the Beit el Mal the necessary amounts
required for the payment of the women and servants of the harem. He has
also charge of considerable sums of private money with which the Khalifa
purchases the presents he secretly makes to his Emirs and other
influential persons. To assist him in carrying out his multifarious
duties, he has a staff of clerks and servants, who are always eunuchs or
slaves, as the Khalifa will on no account allow any stranger to get an
insight into his harem.

Abdullahi's dress consists of a jibba made of superfine white cotton
cloth with a coloured border, loose cotton drawers, and on his head a
beautifully made Mecca silk skull-cap, around which a small white turban
is wound. Around his body a narrow strip of cotton, about five yards
long, called wassan, is worn, and a light shawl of the same material is
thrown across his shoulders. He formerly wore sandals; but latterly he
has taken to wearing soft leather stockings of a light brown colour, and
yellow shoes. When walking, he carries a sword in his left hand, and in
his right a beautifully worked Hadendoa spear, which he uses as a
walking-stick. He is invariably accompanied by twelve or fifteen little
boy-slaves as his personal attendants. Many of these are children of
Abyssinian Christians seized by Abu Anga and Zeki Tummal. Their duty is
to remain always near him, and act as his messengers to various parts of
the town. They usher into his presence all visitors, and must be ready
day and night to carry his orders. When they reach the age of seventeen
or eighteen, they are drafted into the ranks of the mulazemin, and their
places taken by others. The Khalifa thinks that by employing young boys,
his secrets are less likely to be betrayed; and in this he is not far
wrong, when one considers the extraordinary amount of bribery and
corruption which prevails amongst the older classes. Within the house,
into which these young boys are never admitted, he employs young
eunuchs, who wait upon him, whilst the more advanced in age of this
unfortunate class are relegated to the outer dependencies of the
household. Even these juvenile domestics suffer considerable brutality
at his hands. The slightest mistakes are punished by flogging, or the
offenders are thrown into chains and starved.

Upwards of three years ago, he conceived the idea of augmenting his
mulazemin by a species of body-guard; and for this purpose he selected a
number of Jehadia from Mahmud Ahmed's and Zeki Tummal's armies. In
addition to these, he called on the Emirs of the western tribes to
provide a number of recruits for his mulazemin; but his orders were only
partially obeyed. He selected a few of the sons of the best Jaalin
families for incorporation in the body-guard; but he rigorously excluded
all Danaglas and Egyptians, in whom he has no confidence. In this
manner, he created a force of from eleven to twelve thousand men, who,
with their wives and children, are all quartered close to his and his
son's houses, and within the newly erected wall. This force is
subdivided into three corps, under the respective commands of his son
Osman, the Khalifa's young brother Harun Abu Mohammed, who is barely
eighteen years of age, and his cousin Ibrahim Khalil, who has been
recently replaced by an Abyssinian named Rabeh, who has been brought up
in the Khalifa's household.

Osman, in all matters regarding the mulazemin, is looked upon as the
Khalifa's representative. The corps are subdivided again into sections
of one hundred men, over each of which an officer called Ras Miya (head
of the hundred), who has several assistants, has command. Over every
five or six Ras Miya an Emir presides, who is also provided with an
assistant. The Black soldiers, or Jehadia, are incorporated in the
subdivisions, not with the free Arabs, but under the special command of
the Emirs, who have therefore under their respective orders two or three
hundred Jehadia, and the remainder Arabs. Almost all these are armed
with Remington rifles, which, however, are kept in store, and are only
issued on special feasts. The monthly pay of the mulazemin consists of
half a Dervish dollar, and, every fortnight, one-eighth of an ardeb of
dhurra. The grain is received fairly regularly; but the cash payment is
merely a nominal one, and is very seldom issued. The salaries of the
Ras Miya and Emirs are proportionately higher; and they receive frequent
gifts of women and slaves from the Khalifa. The duty of the mulazemin
and body-guard is to protect the person of the Khalifa; and all must
accompany him when he rides out or holds reviews. Even when making a
comparatively small expedition into the town they must proceed with him.
They have always to remain in readiness in the open square in front of
his house. Although the Khalifa has forbidden all Egyptian music, he has
collected the former Black buglers, two of whom invariably accompany
him. The call for a Ras Miya is that of captain; for Emir that of major;
and for commander that of colonel. Abdullahi frequently inspects the
mulazemin at night, in order to see that they are in occupation of the
posts allotted to them; and he pays special attention to the outposts.
Owing to this unusually hard service, the Ras Miya and Emirs, under the
pretext of illness, frequently go secretly to their houses, and great
discontent prevails amongst them.

The Khalifa's public duties consist in saying the five prayers daily in
the large mosque. At early dawn, he begins with the morning prayers,
after which the Rateb is read in various groups, as enjoined by the
Mahdi. This consists of a selection of verses and special prayers from
the Kuran, and occupies about an hour. The Khalifa then returns, as a
rule, to his private apartments, but sometimes walks about in the mosque
in order to see for himself whether the inhabitants of Omdurman comply
with his orders to attend prayers regularly. He holds midday prayers at
about two o'clock, and two hours later follows the Asr, or evening
prayer, after which the Rateb is repeated. Prayers are said again at
sunset, and, three hours later, night prayers are held. On all these
occasions, the Khalifa attends in his mihrab (niche), which has been
erected immediately in front of the lines of believers. It is a
square-shaped structure, consisting of a series of columns connected by
open iron-work, through which he can see all that is going on around
him. Immediately behind him are the seats of his son, the Kadis, and a
few persons specially selected by himself. The mulazemin take up a
position to the right and left, whilst the Black soldiers occupy large
open enclosures which are separated from the mosque by a wall. On the
right of the mulazemin are the places of Yakub, the Emirs, and most of
the western tribes, whilst to the left are some of Yakub's followers, a
few of Khalifa Ali Wad Helu's Arabs, and the Jaalin and Danagla. Behind
these, the people are seated in ten or twelve rows, and repeat the
prayers in unison after the Khalifa. On all occasions there are several
thousand persons present; and the Khalifa is most particular that all
the principal Emirs and influential people should assist him. If he
bears any special dislike or ill-will to any persons, he invariably
condemns them to regularly attend the five daily prayers in the mosque,
under the supervision of people specially selected for this purpose. In
making these strict regulations regarding prayers, the Khalifa is by no
means actuated by devotional ideas, but utilises these occasions to keep
his followers together under his own personal control. As several of the
people live a considerable distance away from the mosque, they are
generally so tired and exhausted, after these frequent journeys to and
fro, that they do not collect in the evening in each others' houses,--a
practice which the Khalifa specially abhors, for his object is to
destroy, as far as possible, what he is pleased to call "social life;"
that is to say, social gatherings, for he is perfectly well aware that
his deeds and actions on such occasions are invariably discussed and
criticised, and not generally very favourably.

If, for any reason, such as illness, he is prevented from attending
prayers, his place is taken by one of his Kadis, or by a very pious
mulazem of the Takruri tribe; but on such occasions the substitute Imam
is never allowed to occupy the mihrab, but stands outside. Khalifa Ali
Wad Helu, who, in accordance with the religious law, should, on such
occasions, represent the Khalifa, is scarcely ever permitted to do so.

In the afternoon, or between afternoon and evening prayers, he receives
reports, news, and letters, and interviews the Kadis and Emirs whose
names have been previously submitted to him, as well as any other
persons whom he specially wishes to see.

His postal arrangements are very primitive. He keeps up from sixty to
eighty riding camels, with a specially selected staff of postmen; and
these he despatches to different parts of his Empire with orders and
instructions. Ibrahim Adlan had suggested to him that he should make
special stations for the posts along the various main roads, and
establish a more regular and less expensive system; but he utterly
refused to entertain the idea, saying that he placed special value on
the verbal accounts of the postmen who were despatched direct, and he
frequently obtained from them important information concerning the
attitude and behaviour of his Governors. The Emirs of the various
districts also have a similar postal system of their own, and despatch
camel-men with important information to Omdurman. There is no system of
postal communication for private persons, though sometimes the
camel-postmen convey letters secretly. The Khalifa being intensely
suspicious of all intercourse with strangers, any communications between
his subordinates and the outside must be carried out with the greatest
circumspection and secrecy. Utterly ignorant of reading and writing, the
Khalifa orders all letters that arrive to be handed over to his
secretaries, Abu el Gasem and Mudasser, who are obliged to explain the
contents, and write replies in accordance with his orders. These two
individuals lead a wretched life; for they know that he will not forgive
the slightest mistake, and should he have the least suspicion of their
having revealed any of his secrets, even through carelessness, he would
not hesitate to treat them as he treated their comrades Ahmedi and his
four brothers, who, having been accused of communicating with the
Ashraf, were executed.

He converses principally with his Kadis, who are, for the most part,
willing tools in his hands, and serve to give a veneer of justice to
his despotic actions. These myrmidons, submissively seated in a
semi-circle on the bare floor, their heads bowed down, listen to his
orders, which are generally given in an undertone; and rarely any one of
them dares to open his mouth or make a suggestion, no matter how
necessary he may think it. In addition to the Kadis, he occasionally
interviews Emirs and other influential persons, from whom he ascertains
the condition of the country and tribes; but he invariably stirs up
intrigue, and tries to pit one against the other. He generally consults,
immediately after night prayers, with Yakub and some of his near
relatives; and these meetings often last till long past midnight. They
are usually convened for discussing the ways and means of ridding
themselves of persons who are objectionable, or who are in the smallest
degree a menace to their authority.

Occasionally, he makes short riding excursions to various parts of the
town, or visits his houses in the north or south of Omdurman. The
melancholy notes of the ombeija and the beating of war-drums announce to
the inhabitants that their master is about to appear in public. Horses
are at once saddled in the large thatched enclosure immediately behind
the mosque. The doors are thrown open, and the mulazemin stream out from
all directions, and, last of all, follows the Khalifa, mounted, as a
rule, on horseback. A square is immediately formed around him; and the
men advance in front of him in detachments, ten or twelve abreast.
Behind them follow the horse and foot men of the town population, while
on the Khalifa's left walks an immensely powerful and well-built Arab
named Ahmed Abu Dukheka, who has the honour of lifting his master in and
out of the saddle. On his right is a strongly-made young Black, who is
chief of the slaves in the royal stables. The Khalifa is immediately
preceded by six men, who alternately blow the ombeija by his orders.
Behind him follow the buglers, who sound the advance or halt, or summon,
at his wish, the chiefs of the mulazemin. Just behind these follow his
small personal attendants, who carry the Rekwa (a leather vessel used
for religious ablutions), the sheepskin prayer-carpet, and several
spears. Sometimes, either in front or rear, as the case may be, follows
the musical band, composed of about fifty Black slaves, whose
instruments comprise antelope-horns, and drums made of the hollow trunks
of trees covered with skin. The strange African tunes they play are
remarkable rather for the hideously discordant noise they make than for
their melody. These rides are generally undertaken after midday prayer;
and the Khalifa returns at sunset. Whilst he is advancing in this solemn
state, the mulazemin generally indulge in displays of horsemanship.
Galloping four abreast, with their spears poised high in the air, they
dash up towards him at full speed, drawing up their horses almost on to
their haunches. They then slowly retire to repeat the operation.

[Illustration: The Khalifa and Cadis in Council.]

During the early years of his rule, the Khalifa was present every Friday
on the large parade ground where the ceremony of trooping the colours is
performed; but now he attends only four times a year, viz., on the
birthday of the Prophet, on the Feast of Miraj, the Feast of Bairam, and
the Feast of Kurbam Bairam; on this last date all the troops in the
neighbourhood, as well as the Darfur and Gedaref armies, are assembled
during peaceful times. On the first day of the Feast of Bairam, the
Khalifa holds prayers on the parade ground, and retires himself within a
zariba in which a small mud-brick house has been built. A few special
favourites, and a number of mulazemin, remain with him; but the rest of
the troops and populace range themselves in long lines; and when the
prayer is over he mounts a wooden pulpit, and delivers a sermon, which
is generally specially prepared for him by his secretaries. This over, a
salute of seven guns is fired, and all those who can afford it kill the
sacrificial lambs prescribed by the religion; but, owing to the
prevailing distress and poverty of the inhabitants, very few of them are
in a position to bear this expense, and are obliged to content
themselves with a sort of porridge which takes the place of a
sacrificial dish. During the three following days, a review is held.
Long before sunrise, the Emirs, with their flags and followers, collect
and march to their allotted positions on the parade ground, which is an
almost perfectly flat sandy plain, with a few stones here and there. The
troops are marshalled in long lines in rear of each other, facing east.

Yakub has the principal flag,--an immense piece of black cloth, which is
hoisted exactly opposite the Khalifa's zariba, and about four hundred
yards from it. To the right and left are ranged those of the different
Emirs, while on the north side flies the green flag of the Khalifa Ali
Wad Helu, on either side of which are the flags of his Emirs. On the
left flank, the horse and camel-men are drawn up, while on the right
flank are ranged the riflemen, consisting partly of Jehadia, and partly
of men belonging to the various Emirs, who are only specially provided
with arms for the time being. Immediately after sunrise, the Khalifa
comes out of the zariba, and, mounted on his horse, stands surrounded by
his mulazemin and body-guard, whilst the entire army passes in review
before him, the troops being generally provided with new jibbas and
turbans in honour of the feast. Sometimes the Khalifa mounts on a camel;
and, on one occasion, he drove in the carriage of one of the former
Governors-General which had been captured in Khartum, and which was kept
stored away in the Beit el Mal. Two horses were specially trained to
draw this vehicle, which the Khalifa ordered to be driven at a foot
pace, as he feared being upset; but, latterly, he has given up this
plan, and generally rides on horseback direct from the mosque along the
road leading due west towards the black flag, and, on reaching it, he
solemnly contemplates it for a few moments, and then rides to the
zariba, at the south front of which a small shelter, consisting of
trunks of trees lashed together and covered with palm-mats, has been
erected. Here he dismounts and reclines on an angareb, surrounded by his
Kadis, whilst the troops file past. Occasionally, he starts from his
own house, and, taking a southern road, marches out of the town, then
turns west and rides along the front alignment of his troops, after
which the usual march past takes place. At these reviews the horsemen
are generally clad in coats of mail, of European or Asiatic origin,
whilst on their heads they wear heavy iron helmets and curious cotton
caps of various colours and the most grotesque shapes, round which a
small turban is wound. The horses are clothed in large padded patchwork
quilts, somewhat resembling those worn by the knights of old at
tournaments; and one might almost imagine one was gazing at one of those
old mediæval displays. These reviews terminate at the end of the third
day; and the troops brought from beyond Omdurman are permitted to return
to their respective garrisons.

I propose now to briefly consider the Khalifa's political intentions and
ideas.

As I have already stated, when the Mahdi first declared himself, he
nominated three Khalifas, viz., Abdullahi, Ali Wad Helu, and Mohammed
Sherif, who were to succeed him in this order, if they survived. On his
death, Abdullahi succeeded as arranged; but, from the moment he took
over the reins of government, he did everything in his power to increase
his personal ascendancy, and make it hereditary in the family. The
mutinous Ashraf, who prided themselves on their relationship to the
Mahdi, afforded him a welcome pretext for compassing their downfall; and
he did not hesitate to possess himself of the Black troops belonging to
both his rival Khalifas. An obscure member of a western tribe, he was a
complete stranger in the country; and he knew that he could not reckon
on the Jaalin, Danagla, inhabitants of the Gezira, and other Nile valley
tribes to support his authority. He therefore sent secret emissaries to
the western Arabs to induce them to make a pilgrimage to the Mahdi's
tomb, and emigrate to the Nile valley. His agents drew a tempting
picture of the magnificent country to which they had been invited,
telling them that they were the Lord's chosen people, and that they
should go out to possess the land, the inhabitants of which were rich in
cattle and slaves, which should be theirs. Tempted by these glowing
accounts, many of these tribes emigrated of their own free-will to
Omdurman; but as this contingent was not sufficient, the Khalifa
instructed his Emirs in Darfur and Kordofan to enforce his orders; and,
in consequence of this, an immense emigration took place, and continues,
on a reduced scale, down to the present day. By this means the Khalifa
has surrounded himself with hordes of strangers who have ousted the
rightful owners of the soil, and have made themselves absolute masters
of the situation. All offices and important situations are filled by
them, and by his own relatives, the majority belonging to the Taaisha
section. Almost the only one of the old Emirs left is Osman Digna; and
the reason for this is that the eastern Arab tribes he governs speak a
language which is unknown to the western Arabs. Besides many of these
tribes are gradually coming under Egyptian and Italian influence, and
the few that are left are merely attached to Osman Digna because he is
one of them. Thus the Taaisha tribe has acquired all the power and
authority in the land; and they fill their pockets with the waning
revenues of the impoverished Sudan.

Years ago, the Emirs of Dongola and Berber had been instructed by the
Khalifa to weaken the local population as much as possible; and, in
consequence, fire-arms and weapons of all descriptions were taken from
them, and they were reduced to a condition of complete harmlessness.
Moreover, in the actions of Toski and Tokar numbers of Jaalin and
Danagla were killed, whilst large contingents of them had been sent to
Darfur and Gallabat in the hope that they may be eventually
exterminated. In this manner the Khalifa has secured their countries,
and rendered any attempt to oppose his authority almost impossible. The
same may be said of the inhabitants of the Gezira, who have also been
drafted off into various remote parts of the country, or have been
forced to come to Omdurman with their families, where they have endured
the greatest hardships and privations. Moreover, they were called upon
to give up more than half their cultivated lands, which were distributed
amongst the western Arabs; and all their best fields are now possessed
by the Khalifa's own relatives and favourites. The former owners are
often obliged to till the soil for their new masters, who have annexed
their servants, slaves, and cattle. Thus the cultivable area of the
Gezira, which, in former times, was the most populous and prosperous
part of the Sudan, has been reduced by at least a half; and such
commotion prevailed in the districts that the Khalifa was himself
obliged to intervene on behalf of the inhabitants, who were ill-treated,
tyrannised over, and oppressed to an incredible extent.

As I have before stated, his own tribes are preferred on all occasions.
Not only do they hold all the best positions and posts, but the greater
part of the money and spoil which passes into the Beit el Mal from the
provincial treasuries at Darfur, Gallabat, and Reggaf finds its way into
their hands. For their special benefit he has imposed a horse tax, which
must be paid in kind; and in this manner he has provided the majority of
the Taaisha with chargers. His own section, the Jubarat, of course gets
the lion's share of everything.

He never hesitates to make use of every description of intrigue in order
to strengthen his own side and weaken the other. For example, on the
defeat and death of Nejumi, whose flags belonged to those of Khalifa
Sherif, and from whom Abdullahi had withdrawn all power of command over
other Emirs, the remnant of the defeated force was placed under the
direction of the Emir Yunes, and, in order to replace those who had been
killed, he appointed fresh Jaalin and Emirs as well as men from
Omdurman. These he first placed under the command of their compatriot
Bedawi Wad el Ereik; but, instead of sending them to Dongola, they were
despatched to Gedaref, and as an unavoidable delay occurred in their
departure, he made out that this was a proof of disobedience, and
condemned Bedawi, with six of his Emirs, to be banished to Reggaf; and
in their place he nominated other Emirs, whom he placed under the direct
command of his cousin Hamed Wad Ali.

It is human nature to seek the protection of the most powerful; and now,
instead of being desirous to serve under their own Emirs, the greater
number of the so-called opposition party vie with one another in their
efforts to be placed under the direct command of the Khalifa or of
Yakub; even the adherents of Ali Wad Helu come under this category. As
an instance of this, I will quote the case of Hamed Wad Gar en Nebbi,
who was the principal cause of the destruction of the Batahin. He
belonged to the Hassanab tribe, which was commanded by Ali Wad Helu.
Recognising how matters stood, he wished to place himself and his tribe
under Yakub's command; but he was short-sighted enough to tell Khalifa
Ali's relatives of his plans. He even went so far as to state in public
that on the death of Abdullahi he would be succeeded by his brother
Yakub or his son Osman, and that, as they had all the power in their
hands, Khalifa Ali could expect nothing, and was, moreover, a weak man
without energy. Several of the bystanders retorted that the Mahdi had
nominated Khalifa Ali to be Abdullahi's successor, to which he replied
that times had changed, that Abdullahi was all-powerful, and that the
Mahdi's commands were never attended to or taken into consideration.
When this interview came to the ears of Khalifa Ali, he charged Gar en
Nebbi before the Kadi; and it was proved beyond a doubt that the latter
had actually made these statements. He was consequently convicted of
being "irreligious," having doubted the maintenance of the Mahdi's
doctrines and instructions. Abdullahi could not therefore publicly
interfere. Had he done so, he would have revealed his own intentions,
which were in reality well known, and would have corroborated Gar en
Nebbi's assertions. The judges sentenced him to death; and although
Abdullahi did all in his power to induce Ali Wad Helu to grant a
reprieve, the latter insisted that the sentence should be carried out;
and Gar en Nebbi was publicly executed in the market-place as an
unbeliever and a disturber of public tranquillity. All the tribes under
the command of Yakub, as well as the Khalifa's immediate followers,
received instructions to show general dissatisfaction with the execution
by openly absenting themselves from it.

Whenever it is a question between himself and his opponents, the Khalifa
invariably relies upon his arms, which are far more than sufficient to
overcome with ease any attempt to dispute his authority, whether it be
in Omdurman itself or in any other part of the country. Within the
Sudan, therefore, he is all-powerful; but he is not in a position to
offer determined resistance to outside enemies. His leaders are neither
capable nor sufficiently instructed to ensure victory. His men are not
now loyal enough to fight with that determination which early fanaticism
had inspired. They have little or no faith in the cause for which they
are supposed to be fighting; and there is little doubt that the
Khalifa's forces could not resist the advance of a foreign power bent on
re-occupying the Sudan.

The table on the next page shows approximately the forces at present at
the Khalifa's disposal. Of the forty thousand rifles shown in the table,
there are not more than twenty-two thousand Remingtons in good
condition. The remainder consist of single and double barrel
smoothbores, and other guns of a variety of pattern. Several of the
Remington barrels, however, have been cut short with the object of
lessening the weight, and with entire disregard to the altered
trajectory thus occasioned. Of the sixty-four thousand swords and spear
men, at least twenty-five per cent are either too old or too young to be
considered effective for a campaign. The seventy-five guns comprise six
Krupps of large calibre, and for which there is only a very small amount
of ammunition, eight machine guns of various patterns, and sixty-one
brass muzzle-loading guns of various shapes and sizes, the ammunition
for which is manufactured principally in Omdurman, and is of a very
inferior quality, the range being little over six or seven hundred
yards.

-----------------+-------------+---------------------------+----+--------
                 |             |        Armed Strength.    |    |Rifles
Position and     |   Emirs.    +--------+--------+---------+Guns| and
Garrisons.       |             |        |        | Swords. |    | Smooth
                 |             |Jehadia.|Cavalry.|Spearmen.|    | Bores.
-----------------+-------------+--------+--------+---------+----+--------
Omdurman         |Osman Sheikh |        |        |         |    |
 (mulazemin)     |  ed Din     | 11,000 |        |         |    |  11,000
 "               |Yakub        |  4,000 |  3,500 |  45,000 | 46 |   4,000
 "    (in store) |             |        |        |         |    |   6,000
                 |             |        |        |         |    |
Reggaf           |Arabi Wad    |  1,800 |        |   4,500 |  3 |   1,800
                 | Dafalla     |        |        |         |    |
Western Sudan:   |             |        |        |         |    |
  El Fasher    } |             |        |        |         |    |
  El Obeid     } |Mahmud, etc. |  6,000 |    350 |   2,500 |  4 |   6,000
  Shakka, etc. } |             |        |        |         |    |
  Berber         |Zeki Osman   |  1,600 |    500 |   1,300 |  6 |   1,600
  Abu Hamed      |Nur en Nau   |    400 |    100 |     700 |  4 |     400
                 |             |        |        |         |    |
Eastern Sudan:   |             |        |        |         |    |
  Adarama        |Osman Digna  |    450 |    350 |   1,000 |    |     450
  Gedaref        |Ahmed Fedil  |  4,500 |    600 |   1,000 |  4 |   4,500
  El Fasher      |             |  1,000 |    200 |     500 |    |   1,000
  Asubri         |Hamed Wad Ali|    900 |    400 |   1,400 |    |     900
  Gallabat       |En Nur       |     50 |        |     200 |    |      50
  Dongola        |Yunes ed     |        |        |         |    |
                 | Degheim     |  2.400 |    500 |   5.000 |  8 |   2,400
  Suarda         |Hammuda      |    250 |    100 |   1,000 |    |     250
-----------------+-------------+--------+--------+---------+----+--------
   Total         |             | 34,350 |  6,600 |  64,000 | 75 |  40,350
-----------------+-------------+--------+--------+---------+----+--------

Let us now consider for a few moments the present limits of the
Khalifa's influence.

Until a few years ago, Dervish authority extended from near Wadi Halfa
in a southeasterly direction towards Abu Hamed, thence eastwards to the
Suakin neighbourhood, including Tokar and the Khor Baraka, thence in a
southerly direction, including Kassala, Gallabat, and the southeastern
slopes of the Beni Shangul and Gulli mountains, and from here it trended
in a southwesterly direction towards the White Nile, and included
Fashoda, Bohr, and Reggaf. On the west, it extended in a southwesterly
direction through the southern Libyan desert, including Selima, the
Dongola, Kordofan, and Darfur Provinces, up to the Wadai frontier, and
thence southward across the Bahr el Arab through Dar Runga, and included
Dar Fertit, the Bahr el Ghazal, and a portion of Equatoria.

The defeat of Nejumi obliged the Mahdists to evacuate the northern
portion of the Dongola Province; and their most northerly outpost is now
Suarda, some three days' march from Dongola. The Egyptian victories at
Tokar and Handub gave back to the local tribes the districts in the
immediate neighbourhood of Suakin and Tokar, whilst the capture of
Kassala threw into the hands of the Italians all districts lying east of
that town, in consequence of which the river Atbara may now be
considered the Khalifa's eastern frontier. The main force originally
stationed at Gallabat under Ahmed Fedil has been moved to Gedaref, and
only an insignificant force is maintained at the former station. The
chief of the Beni Shangul districts--Tur el Guri--and many of the
neighbouring Sheikhs have declared themselves independent.

In the extreme west, the Massalit, Tama, Beni Hussein, and Gimr tribes,
who formerly paid tribute, have now revolted against the Mahdi's
government, and until lately were independent. They entered into an
offensive and defensive alliance with Sultan Yusef of Wadai; and the
Khalifa was about to despatch an expedition with the object of bringing
them into subjection, when the alarming news, to which I have already
referred, regarding the appearance of Europeans in the Bahr el Ghazal
induced him to alter the destination of Khatem Musa's force to that
neighbourhood. After the retirement of the Dervishes, orders were sent
to Khatem Musa not to proceed further south until he had received
reinforcements from Omdurman.

The Shilluks and Dinkas were, as I have already stated, reduced to
subjection by Zeki Tummal, and the route opened to Reggaf, which
continues to be the most southerly of the Dervish garrisons; in
consequence of the disquieting news of European movements in these
districts, the strength of the force there is by no means
inconsiderable. The Khalifa's object in retaining these districts is to
replenish his supplies of slaves and ivory; and, under the energetic
command of Arabi Wad Dafalla, frequent expeditions are despatched south
and west, some of which have collided with the forces of the Congo Free
State; but, as I quitted the Sudan before the result of these
expeditions was known, I am not in a position to state which side was
victorious.

The Khalifa's revenue and expenditure is worked entirely on the Beit el
Mal system.

The following are the principal:--

    Beit el Mal el Umumi (General Treasury).
    Beit el Mal el Mulazemin (the Mulazemin Treasury).
    Beit el Mal Khums el Khalifa (or the Treasury of the
        Khalifa's fifth tithes).
    Beit el Mal Warshat el Harbia (Treasury of the War Department).
    Beit el Mal Zabtia es Suk (Treasury of the Bazaar Police).

The following are the sources of revenue of the General Treasury,
viz.:--

    1. The "Zeka" and "fitra" as laid down in the Moslem Law.
    2. Confiscated property.
    3. The ushr (or tenth) tax paid by merchants and traders on goods.
    4. The gum-tax.
    5. The boat-tax.
    6. Loans from merchants (which are never repaid).
    7. The ferry or "meshra" tax (_i. e._ the farming out of ferries).
    8. The produce of all lands on the east of the Blue Nile and the
           west of the White Nile, as far south as Karkoj and Fashoda,
           and as far north as Haggar el Asal.
    9. A percentage of the revenues of the principal Beit el Mals.

The following are the main expenses borne by the Treasury:--

    1. Transport of troops and supplies to the different provinces.
    2. Pay of the troops (Jehadia).
    3. Pay of the various officials.
    4. Alms.

The revenues of the Mulazemin Treasury come from the Gezira lands; and
the main item of expenditure is the pay of the mulazemin.

The revenues of the Treasury of the Khalifa's fifth tithes are:--

    1. The greater part of the balance revenues of the Provincial
           Treasuries.
    2. The revenues of all islands, including Tuti Island, and all
           "Ghenima" lands, including the Halfaya and Kemlin districts,
           which formerly belonged to His Highness, the Khedive.
    3. The ushr on all goods coming from Berber to Omdurman.
    4. All slaves sent from the provinces.
    5. Revenues of the majority of steamers and boats.

The expenditure of this Treasury is devoted to the Khalifa's household.

The War Department Revenues are:--

    1. The produce of the Khartum gardens.
    2. The revenue of some "sakias" (water-wheels) in the vicinity
           of Khartum.
    3. Ivory from Equatoria.

Expenditure:--

    1. Dockyard expenses.
    2. Beit el Amana (arsenal) expenses.
    3. Saltpetre refining.
    4. Expenses in connection with the manufacture of arms and
           ammunition.

Revenue of the Police Treasury:--

    1. Confiscated property of drunkards and gamblers.
    2. Shop-tax.

Expenditure:--

    1. Pay of police officers and men.
    2. Expenses connected with Yakub's guest-house.
    3. Expenses in connection with the building of the great wall.

It will be readily understood, that the above system produces a
considerable revenue for the Khalifa's private treasury; and I know that
a very large sum of money has been hoarded by him, and is stored in
ammunition boxes, kept in his house; but I am unable to state, even
approximately, what the amount may be. He has also several boxes, made
of skins in which are quantities of gold and silver ornaments, collected
from all parts.

As I have stated, a show is made of keeping correct accounts; but the
system in vogue admits of endless peculation, and any persons having
business in the Beit el Mal invariably acquire considerable fortunes.
The Khalifa, however, is aware of this, and makes up for it by wholesale
confiscations of property.

When the Mahdi first acquired possession of the Sudan, he naturally
obtained considerable quantities of gold and silver money; and, with
the assistance of Ahmed Wad Suleiman, he began to make his own coinage:
he struck gold sovereigns which resembled the Egyptian sovereign; but,
as he did not understand the exact amount of alloy which should be mixed
with the gold, the weights and values varied considerably, and, as the
amount of gold in the Sudan was small, the coining of sovereigns had
soon to be suspended. Silver coining was then carried on with some
vigour; and the following table, showing the various descriptions of
dollars coined during the last ten years, is an interesting indication
of the decline of Dervish power and government; for instance, the first
dollar coined by the Mahdi was made up of seven parts silver and one
part copper, whereas, the last dollar, coined by the Khalifa about a
year ago, is composed of two parts silver and five parts
copper,--indeed, the present dollar is merely a heavy copper coin
covered over with a thin layer of silver.

+-----------------------------------------------------+---------------+
|                                                     |   Weight in   |
|                                                     |    Dirhems.   |
|                                                     +-------+-------+
|                                                     |Silver.|Copper.|
+-----------------------------------------------------+-------+-------+
| 1. The Mahdi dollar                                 |   7   |   1   |
| 2. The first dollar made by Ibrahim Adlan           |   6   |   2   |
| 3. The second dollar made by Ibrahim Adlan          |   5   |   3   |
| 4. The first dollar of Nur el Gereifawi (this is    |   4   |   4   |
|      known as the Makbul dollar)                    |       |       |
| 5. The second dollar of Nur el Gereifawi (this is   |   3   |   4   |
|      known as the Abu Sidr or Makbul)               |       |       |
| 6. The dollar of Suleiman Abdulla (this is known    |   2½  |   4½  |
|      as the Abu Kibs or "crossed-spear" dollar)     |       |       |
| 7. The first dollar of Abdel Mejid (also called the |   2½  |   4½  |
|      Makbul)                                        |       |       |
| 8. The dollar of Weki Alla                          |   2½  |   4½  |
| 9. The dollar of Omla Gedida (new money)            |   2   |   5   |
+-----------------------------------------------------+-------+-------+

Coining money is a lucrative trade; and, at present, the Mint is
presided over by two individuals, who pay six thousand dollars a month
each, for the privilege. All money issued by them must be accepted as
good money. The merchants, of course, object most strongly to these
arbitrary measures; but wholesale confiscation of their property,
accompanied by flogging and imprisonment, has forced them to realise the
futility of attempting to go contrary to the Khalifa's will. Maria
Theresa dollars and Medjidi dollars were the principal currency when the
Egyptian Government occupied the Sudan; and the present rate of exchange
is:--

    One Maria Theresa dollar = five Omla Gedida dollars.
    One Medjidi dollar = eight Omla Gedida dollars.

In consequence of this introduction of base coinage, the prices of
certain articles have risen enormously: for instance, blue cotton stuff,
which is principally used for women's dresses, and which cost formerly
three-quarters of a dollar the piece, has now risen to six dollars,
whilst ordinary linen, which was sold at a dollar for twelve yards, has
risen to eight dollars for the same amount. Half a pound of sugar costs
a dollar, and so on. In fact, all goods which come from Egypt have risen
in price, whilst local produce, such as grain and cattle, has
proportionately diminished in value: for instance,--

                                        Dervish Dollars.
    A baggage camel         costs from     60 to 80
    Riding camel              "    "      200 " 400
    Abyssinian horse          "    "       60 " 120
    Country bred horse        "    "      200 " 600
    Ordinary cow              "    "      100 " 160
    A calf                    "    "       30 "  50
    Milch cow                 "    "      100 " 120
    A sheep                   "    "        5 "  20
    An ardeb of dhurra        "    "        6 "   8
    An ardeb of wheat         "    "       30 "  40

If the above rates were calculated in the former currency, it will be
seen that the price of these articles is less now than it was in the
days of the Egyptian Government; and it is evident that this state of
things is brought about by bad sales, depression of trade, and general
poverty. The unfortunate natives, who, at most, own only a few acres of
ground, and a small stock of domestic animals, are obliged to sell them
in order to obtain the bare necessaries of life, and pay the oppressive
taxes.




CHAPTER XVII.

MISCELLANEOUS REMARKS (_continued_).

    Administration of Justice--The Kadi el Islam--Religion in the
    Sudan--The Khalifa's Sermons--Enforced Pilgrimage to the Mahdi's
    Tomb--Limits of the Mahdist Empire--Natural Produce--Caravan
    Roads--Ostrich Hunting--Trade and Commerce--The Slave-trade--The
    Slave Market--Industries--Immorality--Unpopularity of the
    Khalifa--His Ignorance and Cruelty--His Private
    Apartments--Principal Buildings in Omdurman--Description of the
    City--The Prison and its Horrors--Death of Zeki Tummal and Kadi
    Ahmed.


Throughout the preceding pages, I have frequently referred in general
terms to the Khalifa's system of administering justice. The Kadis, or
judges, are ready tools in the hands of their astute master. They are
only permitted to act independently in trivial cases, such as family
disputes, questions of property, and the like; but in all matters of
importance, they must invariably refer to the Khalifa for final
decision, in giving which the latter invariably consults his own
immediate interests; but at the same time his earnest endeavour is to
appear before the public to be within the bounds of justice. The judges
therefore, have a somewhat difficult task to perform: that is to say,
they must invariably carry out the Khalifa's wishes, and give them the
appearance of being legally correct; whereas, in nine cases out of ten,
they are entirely contrary to the first elements of justice and right.

The nominal codes of justice are the Moslem religious law and the
"Instructions" of the Mahdi,--the latter being supposed to regenerate
the former, which, through abuse and corruption, had been misapplied
and, metaphorically speaking, trodden under foot. The main principle
governing the "Instructions" is the necessity for absolute belief in
the Mahdi's Divine mission,--to doubt this is considered an act of
apostasy punishable by death, confiscation of property, or imprisonment
for life. The Khalifa's object being to seize all power, the
"Instructions" are applied on every possible occasion; and he generally
takes council with Yakub as to the means to be employed to secure his
end; and as Yakub is the embodiment of every description of base
intrigue and violence, the application of these laws results in the
grossest injustice, oppression, and brutality.

The following comprise the Court of Justice of the two principal Kadis:
Hussein Wad Sahra, Jaali; Suleiman Wad el Hejaz, Gehemabi; Hussein Wad
Gisu, Homri; Ahmed Wad Hamdan, Arakini; Osman Wad Ahmed, Batahini; and
Abdel Kader Wad Om Mariam, who was formerly Kadi of Kalakla and Prefect
of Khartum; also Mohammed Wad el Mufti, who is the judge of petty
disputes amongst the mulazemin. In addition to these, there are several
Kadis of the western tribes; but they are not permitted to give
judgment, and merely give their votes to their higher colleagues.

Hussein Wad Sahra, whom the Khalifa recently appointed to succeed the
Kadi el Islam, Ahmed Wad Ali, completed his studies at the Azhar Mosque
in Cairo, and is known as the most learned man in the Sudan. In spite,
however, of his erudition, he made the fatal mistake of writing a small
pamphlet in favour of the claims of Mohammed Ahmed to be the true Mahdi;
and, having realised his error, he inwardly became his most bitter
antagonist. Having now been summoned by the Khalifa to fill this
important position, he was unwillingly obliged to accept it; his sense
of justice has occasionally got the better of his fear, and, in several
instances, he has given just judgments contrary to the Khalifa's wishes;
consequently, he is not at present in favour with his master. He still
nominally holds the post, but is seldom called to the councils. If fear
of his life does not eventually get the upper hand, he will undoubtedly
be shortly numbered amongst those who are to be got rid of.

Whenever the grand Council of Kadis assembles, it is always understood
that they are about to pronounce some special judgment in accordance
with the Khalifa's wishes, which have been previously communicated to
them. As a Kadi's salary is not large,--from twenty to forty Dervish
dollars a month,--it may be readily understood that venality enters
largely into the minor judgments with which the Khalifa does not
interfere.

In accordance with the "Instructions," the evidence of witnesses is
inviolable: it is not permitted to the accused to protest; and,
consequently, it is the judges' prerogative to accept or refuse
witnesses at will, and such a system naturally gives them ample
opportunities of increasing their incomes.

The Kadi of the Mulazemin has special instructions that any case between
one of the body-guard and natives of the country--even if they be the
highest in the land--shall invariably be given in favour of the former;
and so rigorously is this rule enforced, that it is now never thought
worth while to enter into a lawsuit with one of the body-guard.

Attached to the Beit el Mal are two Kadis whose special duty is to keep
up connection with the Mehekema (Law Courts); they also issue the papers
which must be signed when slaves are bought and sold, and on which they
collect a small tax. There are also Kadis in the market, police
stations, and at the ferries who are charged with settling disputes and
carrying out the duties of the Court of Small Causes.

The following brief notes on the state of religion, education,
agriculture, commerce, and slave-trade may be of some interest.

Religion in the Sudan, as far as my experience goes, is governed by the
principle that the end justifies the means. Proclamations and pamphlets
enjoining strict attention to the performance of religious duties, and
urging the abandonment of all earthly pleasures, are despatched to the
remotest parts of Africa and Arabia, to Bornu, Dar Fellata, Mecca, and
Medina. The Khalifa, if his health permits it, attends the five daily
prayers most regularly; and yet, at heart, no man could be more
irreligious. During all the years in which I have been in the closest
communication with him, I have never once seen or heard him say a prayer
in his own house. Should any religious rite or ceremony interfere in the
smallest degree with his wishes or ambitions, it is instantly abolished;
but in doing so he is careful that the proposition for its abolition
should emanate in the first instance from his Kadis, who declare it
necessary for the "maintenance of the faith;" and the astuteness with
which these obsequious myrmidons twist and turn matters in order to suit
the Khalifa's will is deserving of a better cause. Whenever it is quite
impossible to create some pretext for the execution of an unusually
gross piece of injustice, Divine interposition and inspiration is
invariably called to the rescue.

Abdullahi often addresses his followers from the pulpit in the mosque;
but as he is entirely ignorant of theology, and knows little or nothing
about the rudiments of religion, the scope of his sermons is excessively
limited, and consists of a repetition of stereotyped phrases. On first
mounting the pulpit, he greets the multitude with the words, "Salam
Aleikum ya ashab el Mahdi!" (Peace be upon you, O friends of the
Mahdi!). To this the congregation shout in one voice, "Aleik es Salam ya
Khalifat el Mahdi!" (Peace be with thee, O Khalifa of the Mahdi!). The
Khalifa then adds, "God bless you! God preserve you! May God lead the
Mahdi's followers to victory!" and between each sentence the
congregation shout, "Amin" (Amen).

He then goes on to say, "See, O friends of the Mahdi, how evil is the
world! Think for how short a time we live in it! Were it not so the
Prophet and his follower, the Mahdi, would still be with us. We shall
surely follow them. Prepare, therefore, for your journey to the next
world. Do not seek earthly joys; say the five prayers daily. Read the
Mahdi's Rateb; and be ever ready to fight against the unbelievers. Obey
my orders [this sentence he frequently repeats], and the joys of
Paradise will be yours. Those who are disobedient, and do not take heed
of my words, are lost; for them, as for the unbeliever, eternal
damnation and hell fire is prepared. I am the shepherd, and you are the
sheep. As you tend your cattle and see that they do not eat what will
harm them, so I watch over you and see that you do not get into evil
ways. Think always of the Almightiness of God. Think of the cow, which
is made of flesh and blood and skin and bones; and yet you can obtain
sweet white milk from her. Do you not recognise God's power in this?[17]
Remain faithful to your vows to the Mahdi and to myself. Obey my
commands, which will give you peace on earth and joy in the world to
come. As the stones of a building go to make the structure complete, so
should you support one another. Forgive one another. Love each other as
the sons of one mother [and the crowd shouts, "We forgive each other!"].
May God bless you! May He lead you to victory! May He ever preserve and
keep you! Depart now in peace; but, before we separate, shout in one
voice, 'La Illaha ilalaha Mohammed Rasul Allah.' This will enlighten
your hearts and strengthen your faith." The congregation then disperses
with loud shouts of "Amin, la illaha, etc." All his sermons vary very
little from the above.

The repetition of the five prayers, and the reading of the Kuran, on
which no commentaries are permitted to be made, make up the sum total of
religion, interspersed now and then with the reading of the Mahdi's
instructions and the repetition, twice a day, of the Rateb. If any
person says prayers at home, instead of at the mosque, without just
cause or reason, he is adjudged by the Khalifa as "disobedient;" and
such prayers are, he says, not acceptable to God. From his point of
view, true religion consists of servile obedience to his commands; and
by this means alone can the soul enter into everlasting joys.

He has forbidden pilgrimage to Mecca, having substituted for it
pilgrimage to the tomb of the Mahdi, who is the Prophet's
representative. Although the Sudanese intensely dislike this innovation,
they are perforce obliged to accept it; and as it is now impossible for
them to return to the orthodox faith, which they so unwittingly cast
aside, they now accept the situation, and carry out their mock religious
duties in the most businesslike manner, but without the smallest belief
in their efficacy.

Education and religious instruction are practically non-existent. Some
boys, and occasionally a few girls, are taught to recite the Kuran and
the Rateb in the mesjids (religious schools attached to the mosques), of
which a few are allowed to be privately kept up. A small percentage of
these children, when they have completed their course in the mesjids,
are sent to the Beit el Mal, where they become apprentices to the old
Government clerks, and learn a certain amount of business
correspondence. The system of theological instruction which obtains in
most Moslem countries, but which was never much in vogue in the Sudan,
has now ceased to exist altogether.

Cultivation of the land south of Berber is carried on during the rainy
season, which in the northern districts begins in July, and in the
southern at the end of May, or early in June, and lasts till the end of
October; but there are now immense tracts of once fertile soil which,
through want of cultivation and depopulation, have become tracts of
desert or a tangled wilderness. The staple grain of the Sudan is dhurra,
and if there is a plentiful rainfall, the supply is generally good; but
if there is a scarcity of rain, a famine almost invariably ensues, and
the poorer classes of the population undergo terrible privations. On
these occasions, they generally have to proceed to Karkoj on the Blue
Nile, or some distance up the White Nile, and bring dhurra to Omdurman
in boats.

From Wadi Haifa to Fashoda on the White Nile, or to Famaka on the Blue
Nile, narrow strips of river bank are cultivated by sakias
(water-wheels) or shadufs (hand-buckets); and, in addition to dhurra,
Turkish maize, beans, lentils, peas, and pumpkins are cultivated. Owners
of water-wheels in the vicinity of the larger towns cultivate small
quantities of sugar-cane, water-melons, radishes, sweet cucumbers, and
various kinds of vegetables, which find a ready market; and when the
rainy season is over cotton is planted. The most productive land is, of
course, on the islands, which, during high Nile, are often completely
submerged; and as the river sinks they are sown almost without labour,
and produce excellent crops. Oranges and lemons are grown in the
neighbourhood of Khartum; but they are very small, and contain little
juice. A few pomegranates, grapes, and figs are also to be had; but they
are all of a very inferior quality. There are, of course, quantities of
date-palms, of which the fruit forms one of the principal items of food;
but the supply is barely sufficient for the consumption. In the Dar
Mahass and Sukkot districts of the Dongola Province the supply of dates
is very considerable; and they are brought from thence to various parts
of the Sudan, the drying process being carried on principally in the
Berber and Robatab districts.

Gum-arabic is collected in the forests of Southern Kordofan, and at one
time constituted the principal wealth of this province. It was gathered
principally by the Gimeh and Gowama Arabs; but the former have been
forced to emigrate, and the latter, through constant tyranny and
oppression, have been so reduced that scarcely a sixth remains of their
original numbers. In the days of the Egyptian Government, from eight
hundred thousand to one million kantars of gum-arabic were gathered
annually; but at present at most thirty thousand kantars are produced,
and were it not that one of the former chiefs of the Beit el Mal had
represented to the Khalifa the increase which would accrue to his
private treasury by allowing the collection of gum, it is probable the
custom of gum picking would have fallen into entire disuse.

The cultivation of tobacco was formerly one of the principal pursuits
of the native population; but as smoking is strictly prohibited by the
Mahdist code, this product has entirely died out, though occasionally
small quantities are smuggled in from the Tagalla and Nuba mountains,
and fetch large prices; but any persons guilty of infringing the
regulations in this respect suffer very heavy penalties.

The once extensive commerce of the Sudan has now sunk down to
comparatively nothing; and the roads which were formerly traversed by
numberless caravans are now deserted, obliterated by sand, or overgrown
with rank vegetation. The principal routes were,--

1. The Arbaïn or forty days' road, from Darfur to Assiut, or from
Kordofan through the Bayuda desert to Dongola and Wadi Halfa.

2. From Khartum, _via_ Berber, to Assuan, or _via_ Abu Hamed, to
Korosko.

3. From Khartum, _via_ Berber or Kassala, to Suakin.

4. From Gallabat, Gedaref, and Kassala to Massawa.

At present the only roads used by occasional caravans are from Berber to
Assuan and Suakin. Shortly after the capture of Khartum, the Sudan
merchants imported to Assuan considerable quantities of the captured
gold and silver ornaments; and, partly owing to this fact, and partly to
the amount of spoil accumulated in the Khalifa's private treasury, the
supply of these metals has become so reduced that Abdullahi has given
strict orders to the merchants that they should on no account take with
them to Egypt any gold or silver except what was absolutely necessary
for the expenses of the journey. This amount was fixed by the Beit el
Mal, and had to be taken in old currency, the value of which was
inserted in the passport.

As the sadly diminished trade with Egypt began to revive, natural
products, which had been the former wealth of the Sudan, were again made
the medium of commerce. Gum, ostrich feathers, tamarinds, senna-leaves,
etc. were collected in the Beit el Mal, as well as ivory, and were sold
by auction at local currency rates; but as the majority of these
products came from the western districts, which, owing to war, famine,
and disease had become almost depopulated, the supply was scanty. In
exchange for these, the merchants brought from Egypt Manchester goods,
which are greatly in demand in the Sudan. Gum is a monopoly, and the
price paid for it varies greatly. The Beit el Mal purchases at the rate
of twenty to thirty dollars (Omla Gedida), and sells to the merchants at
the rate of thirty to forty dollars. The purchaser generally receives
permission to take it to Egypt, and is taxed at the rate of a dollar a
hundred weight at Berber, where the amount is carefully checked with the
bill of lading. If he wishes to take it to Suakin or Assuan, he is
obliged to pay a tax of a further dollar a hundred weight; but in this
case it is a Maria Theresa dollar, which is equivalent to five Omla
Gedidas; and thus already a sixth of the original cost has been added in
taxation.

Ostrich-hunting has now become almost impossible, as the Arabs have
practically no guns, and it is most difficult to procure any ammunition.
An attempt was made to hunt ostriches on horseback; but this also was
forbidden by the Khalifa, and, consequently, very few feathers are
brought into the market. The Arabs then tried ostrich-breeding, and
caught some young birds; but this again was forbidden on the grounds
that it was not allowed by religion, and the plucking of birds was made
an offence which was most severely punished. The Khalifa's object in
imposing these absurd strictures was merely to appear in the eyes of the
public as a very religious Moslem. In consequence, ostrich-breeders had
no other course but to kill their birds, and for some days Omdurman was
flooded with ostrich meat. I have heard that attempts are made by some
of the desert Arabs to rear ostriches in a species of cage made of the
branches of trees; but the feathers obtained in this way are so few as
to make the trade in this commodity almost unappreciable.

Ivory comes from the Equatorial regions in considerable quantities about
once a year, and generally finds its way to Suakin; and as these
districts appear to be gradually passing out of Mahdist control, it is
hardly probable that the amount will increase in future years.
Occasionally, a few tusks are brought from the Southern Darfur
districts; but unless the Dervishes re-occupy the Bahr el Ghazal in
force, their ivory trade stands in danger of dying out altogether.

Goods can only be imported from Egypt by the Assuan and Suakin roads.
Formerly, a certain amount of trade was carried on between Suakin and
Kassala, and Kassala and Massawa; but since the occupation of the
Eastern Sudan by the Italians, it has almost entirely ceased. The goods
imported are generally of an inferior quality, and consist mostly of
material for women's dresses and men's jibbas; but to the inhabitants of
the Sudan this is a matter of little consequence, for they much prefer
gaudy and tawdry material to the more durable fabrics. Indeed, it would
be very difficult, if not impossible, to find purchasers for a better
class of goods in the Sudan.

One of the principal imports is scent of every variety, such as
sandal-wood oil, cloves, scented seeds, etc., for all of which the
Sudanese ladies have a strong predilection. A certain amount of sugar,
rice, inferior jams, and dried fruit also find purchasers amongst the
more wealthy of the population. The importation of all articles made of
iron, brass, tin, copper, etc. has, for some time past, been rigorously
prohibited by the Egyptian Government, and now it is almost impossible
to obtain a pair of scissors or a razor. Copper cooking-utensils have
risen to an enormous price; and most of those which previously existed
have been bought up by the arsenal for the manufacture of cartridges.
Consequently, food is now cooked almost entirely in earthenware vessels.

The tax of ushr (a tenth) is levied on all goods imported to the Sudan.
It must be paid in either money or kind, and is frequently taken more
than once along the road. All goods on arrival in Omdurman are taken to
the Beit el Mal and stamped; and here the ushr is again taken.
Merchants, therefore, owing to the heavy taxes imposed, in addition to
the presents they have to make to the various chiefs, have generally
paid half as much again over and above the value of their goods. They
are therefore obliged to considerably raise the price; and even then the
total profit is by no means a large one. Several of the more wealthy
inhabitants of the Sudan have taken to trading with Egypt, not so much
with a view to making money, as to spending a few months away from the
atmosphere of the Khalifa's authority. It is by means of trade alone
that any of the unfortunate inhabitants of the Sudan can temporarily
escape from the hands of that tyrant, whose rule is more detested than
ever. Most of the merchants, having their wives, families, and relatives
in the Sudan, are obliged eventually to return; and, were it not for
these ties, I think that few men who have the chance of leaving the
Sudan would ever return.

But if trade in general is in a state of depression, there is one trade
to which the advent of the Mahdi and Khalifa has given a great impulse.
I refer, of course, to the slave-trade. As, however, the export of
slaves to Egypt is strictly prohibited, this trade is confined entirely
to the provinces under the Khalifa's control. In prohibiting the export
of slaves, the Khalifa acts on the wise principle that he should not
increase the power of his adversaries at his own expense. It is, of
course, quite impossible for him to absolutely prevent slaves being
taken occasionally to Egypt or Arabia; but the slave-caravans which were
formerly sent from the Sudan have now almost completely stopped. A few
years ago quantities of slaves were sent from Abyssinia by Abu Anga, and
from Fashoda by Zeki Tummal, as well as from Darfur and the Nuba
mountains by Osman Wad Adam, and were generally sold by public auction
for the benefit of the Beit el Mal, or the Khalifa's private treasury.
The transport of slaves is carried on with the same execrable and
heartless cruelty which characterises their capture. Of the thousands of
Abyssinian Christians seized by Abu Anga, the majority were women and
children; and under the cruel lash of the whip they were forced to march
on foot the whole distance from Abyssinia to Omdurman; wrenched from
their families, provided with scarcely enough food to keep body and soul
together, barefooted, and almost naked, they were driven through the
country like herds of cattle. The greater number of them perished on the
road; and those who arrived in Omdurman were in so pitiable a condition
that purchasers could scarcely be found for them, whilst numbers were
given away for nothing by the Khalifa. After the defeat of the Shilluks,
Zeki Tummal packed thousands of these wretched creatures into the small
barges used for the transport of his troops, and despatched them to
Omdurman. Hundreds died from suffocation and overcrowding on the
journey; and, on the arrival of the remnant, the Khalifa appropriated
most of the young men as recruits for his body-guard, whilst the women
and young girls were sold by public auction, which lasted several days.
Hungry, and in many cases naked, these unfortunate creatures lay huddled
together in front of the Beit el Mal. For food, they were given an
utterly inadequate quantity of uncooked dhurra. Hundreds fell ill; and
for these poor wretches it was also impossible to find purchasers.
Wearily they dragged their emaciated bodies to the river bank, where
they died; and as nobody would take the trouble to bury them, the
corpses were pushed into the river and swept away.

But a worse fate than this befell the slaves who had the misfortune to
be sent from Darfur along the broad stretches of waterless desert which
lie between that province and Omdurman. These miserable creatures were
mercilessly driven forward day and night; and it would be impossible for
me to describe here the execrable measures adopted by these brutal
slave-drivers to force on their prey to their destination. When the poor
wretches could go no further, their ears were cut off as a proof to the
owner that his property had died on the road. Some of my friends told me
that on one occasion they had found an unfortunate woman whose ears had
been cut off, but who was still alive. Taking pity on her, they brought
her to El Fasher, where she eventually recovered, whilst her ears had
been duly exposed in Omdurman as proof of her death.

Latterly, no large caravans of slaves have arrived in Omdurman, because
the majority of the slave-producing districts, such as Darfur, have
become depopulated, or, in some cases, the tribes, such as the Tama,
Massalit, etc., have thrown off allegiance to the Khalifa. Consignments,
however, still come from Reggaf; but, owing to the long and tedious
journey, numbers of them perish on the way. As the supplies from
Gallabat, Kordofan, and Darfur have considerably diminished, the Khalifa
now allows the Emirs to sell slaves to the itinerant Gellabas; and the
latter are obliged to sign a paper giving a descriptive return of their
purchase, and the amount paid. They are permitted to re-sell on the same
conditions.

There is of course a daily sale of slaves in Omdurman; but the purchase
of male slaves is forbidden, as they are looked upon as the Khalifa's
monopoly, and are generally turned into soldiers. Any one wishing to
dispose of a male slave must send him to the Beit el Mal, where a purely
nominal price is paid for him; and he is then, if likely to make a good
soldier, recruited for the mulazemin, but if unsuitable, he is sent off
to work as a labourer in his master's fields. The sale of women and
girls is permissible everywhere, with the proviso that a paper must be
signed by two witnesses of the sale, one of whom, if possible, should be
a Kadi, certifying that the slave sold is the actual property of the
vendor. This system was brought into force because slaves frequently ran
away from their masters, were caught and sold by other persons as their
own property, and thus theft of slaves was a very common practice in
Omdurman. They were frequently enticed into other people's houses, or
secretly induced to leave the fields, then thrown into chains and
carried off to distant parts of the country, where they were sold at
very low rates. In accordance with the Mohammedan Law, slaves cannot be
witnesses; and, being well aware of their inferior position, these
stolen creatures, as long as they are kindly treated, are not
dissatisfied with their lot.

In Omdurman itself, in an open space a short distance to the southeast
of the Beit el Mal, stands a house roughly built of mud-bricks, which is
known as the Suk er Rekik (slave-market). Under the pretext that I
wanted to buy or exchange slaves, I several times received the Khalifa's
permission to visit it, and found ample opportunity for closely
observing the conduct of the business. Here professional slave-dealers
assemble to offer their wares for sale. Round the walls of the house
numbers of women and girls stand or sit. They vary from the decrepit and
aged half-clad slaves of the working-class, to the gaily-decked Surya
(concubine); and as the trade is looked upon as a perfectly natural and
lawful business, those put up for sale are carefully examined from head
to foot, without the least restriction, just as if they were animals.
The mouth is opened to see if the teeth are in good condition. The upper
part of the body and the back are laid bare; and the arms carefully
looked at. They are then told to take a few steps backward or forward in
order that their movements and gait may be examined. A series of
questions are put to them to test their knowledge of Arabic. In fact,
they have to submit to any examination the intending purchaser may wish
to make. Suryas, of course, vary considerably in price; but the whole
matter is treated by the slaves without the smallest concern. They
consider it perfectly natural, and have no notion of being treated
otherwise. Only occasionally one can see by the expression of a woman or
girl that she feels this close scrutiny; possibly her position with her
former master was rather that of a servant than a slave, or she may have
been looked upon almost as a member of the family, and may have been
brought to this unhappy position by force of circumstances, or through
some hateful inhumanity on the part of her former master. When the
intending purchaser has completed his scrutiny, he then refers to the
dealer, asks him what he paid for her, or if he has any other better
wares for sale. He will probably complain that her face is not pretty
enough, that her body is not sufficiently developed, that she does not
speak Arabic, and so on, with the object of reducing the price as much
as possible; whilst, on the other hand, the owner will do his utmost to
show up her good qualities, charms, etc., into the detail of which it is
not necessary to enter here. Amongst the various "secret defects" which
oblige the dealer to reduce his price are snoring, bad qualities of
character, such as thieving, and many others; but when at last the sale
has been finally arranged, the paper is drawn out and signed, the money
paid, and the slave becomes the property of her new master. Payment is
always made in local currency (Omla Gedida dollars), and runs
approximately as follows:--

For an aged working slave, fifty to eighty dollars; for a middle aged
woman eighty to one hundred and twenty dollars; for young girls between
eight and eleven years of age, according to looks, one hundred and ten
to one hundred and sixty dollars; and for suryas (concubines), according
to looks, one hundred and eighty to seven hundred dollars. These rates,
of course, vary also according to market value, or special demand for a
particular race.

There are practically no industries in the Sudan, as, with the exception
of the articles I have already mentioned, there are no exports.
Formerly, gold and silver filigree work was sent to Egypt; but, owing to
the scarcity of these metals, and to the Mahdi's edict against wearing
jewellery, this export has altogether ceased. There is a considerable
manufacture and trade in long and short spears of various shapes,
stirrup-irons, horse and donkey bits, knives for fastening on the arm,
as well as agricultural implements. Wooden saddles for horses, camels,
and mules, angarebs, boxes for carrying clothes, and doors, windows, and
shutters of a primitive description are also made. Formerly,
boat-building was extensively carried on; but, owing to the Khalifa's
confiscation of all boats on the Nile, it ceased almost entirely, till
about a year ago, when, with the Khalifa's permission, it re-commenced.
As, however, all new boats are taxed highly by the Beit el Mal, there
is little inducement to the builders to undertake such profitless work.

[Illustration: In the Slave Market, Omdurman.]

There is a certain amount of leather-work in red and yellow shoes,
sandals, saddles of different sorts, harness, amulets, sword scabbards,
and knife sheaths, etc., whilst whips in large quantities are made from
the hide of the hippopotamus. There is also a considerable cotton
industry. Every woman or girl spins for her own use or for sale; and in
every village there are numbers of weavers who work the spun-yarn into a
variety of materials. In the Gezira are woven common cotton
stuffs,--such as tobs, damur, and genj (names of cloths) in lengths of
about ten yards. These are brought to the market in large quantities,
and are principally used for the clothing of the commoner classes. The
finest yarns are spun in the province of Berber. Strips of coloured silk
are frequently interwoven in the material, which is used principally for
turbans and hazams (the strips of cotton which are used to bind round
the body), as well as coverings of various sorts, and shawls. A certain
amount of cotton stuff is made in the Dongola province; but that
district is chiefly noted for the manufacture of sail-cloth. Materials
from Kordofan are noted for their durability rather than for their
beauty.

In addition to spinning, the women occupy themselves largely in plaiting
mats of various shapes and sizes from the leaves of the dom palm, which
are sold largely in all parts of the Sudan. The best quality of these
mats is made from the narrow strips of the palm leaves, barley straw,
and thin pieces of leather. Mats of a similar description are also made
for placing under dishes on the dinner-table. The workmanship of some of
these is so fine and good that a certain quantity find their way to
Egypt, where they are sold as curiosities. The Darfur women are
specially clever in making these mats, into which are interwoven various
sorts of glass beads, and the result is sometimes extremely pretty.

In the preceding pages, I have endeavoured to give a brief outline of
the Khalifa's life, and the existing state of affairs in the country;
but this would not be complete without a few remarks regarding the moral
condition of the people. The attempted regeneration of the faith by the
Mahdi, who disregarded the former religious teaching and customs, has
resulted in a deterioration of morals, which, even at the best of times,
were very lax in the Sudan. Partly from fear of the Khalifa, and partly
for their own personal interests and advantage, the people have made
religion a mere profession; and this has now become their second nature,
and has brought with it a condition of immorality which is almost
indescribable. The majority of the inhabitants, unhappy and discontented
with the existing state of affairs, and fearing that their personal
freedom may become even more restricted than it is, seem to have
determined to enjoy their life as much as their means will allow, and to
lose no time about it. As there is practically no social life or
spiritual intercourse, they seem to have resolved to make up for this
want by indulging their passion for women to an abnormal extent. Their
object is to obtain as many of these in marriage as possible, as well as
concubines; and the Mahdi's tenets allow them the fullest scope in this
direction. For instance, the expenses in connection with marriage have
been greatly diminished. The dowry for a girl has been reduced from ten
to five dollars; and for a widow, five dollars, a common dress, a pair
of shoes or sandals, and a few scents. Should a man desire to marry a
girl, her father or guardian must consent, unless there are some very
cogent reasons for not doing so. Under any circumstances, they are held
responsible that their daughters or wards become wives as soon as they
reach a convenient age. The acquisition, therefore, of four wives--which
is the number authorised by the Kuran--has become a very simple matter,
and in most cases is considered merely a means of acquiring a small
amount of personal property. Moreover, a large proportion of the women
are quite agreeable to this arrangement, and enter into matrimony either
with the object of obtaining some clothes and a little money, or
temporarily changing their mode of life, being well aware that, in
accordance with the law, they can dissolve marriage ties without
difficulty. If a woman seeks a divorce, she retains her dowry, unless
the separation rises from aversion to her husband, in which case the
dowry is returned if the man wishes it. I know many men who, in the
space of ten years, have been married forty or fifty times at least; and
there are also many women who, during the same period, have had fifteen
or twenty husbands, and in their case the law enjoins that between each
divorce they must wait three months at least. As a rule, concubines, of
whom a man may legally have as many as he likes, lead a most immoral
life. They rarely live in the same house as their master, unless they
have children by him, in which case they cannot be sold; but in the
majority of cases they are bought with the object of being retained
merely for a very short time, and subsequently sold again at a profit.
This constant changing of hands leads to great moral deterioration.
Their youth and beauty quickly fade; and, as a rule, they age
prematurely, and then enter upon a life of hardship and moral
degradation which it is almost impossible to conceive.

It is a common practice for merchants to make pecuniary profit out of
the immorality of their slaves. They buy young girls, permit them to
enjoy a certain amount of freedom by seeking a shelter and livelihood in
the manner which suits them best; and for this privilege they refund to
their masters a percentage of their gains.

The greatest vice exists amongst the slaves of the mulazemin. The latter
entice women to their quarters, where they remain a short time with them
as their wives; but the freest interchange takes place between them. The
Khalifa does not seem to think it worth while to check this immorality,
as he imagines that by allowing them to please themselves, his own
slaves will become more attached to him, and will not wish to leave him.
It may be readily conceived that the result of this moral laxity has
led to the prevalence of the worst sort of disease, which has taken such
a hold of all classes of the population, both free and slaves, that were
it not for the warm and dry climate, the ravages would be terrible. As
it is, the general state of health is very unsatisfactory, and is
considerably aggravated by the complete absence of medicines necessary
to check the malady.

A certain number of people also indulge in unnatural love: and at first
the Khalifa made some attempt to check this by banishment to Reggaf; but
latterly he has given up doing so. He has come to the conclusion that it
is much easier to rule by despotism and tyranny, a degraded nation than
one which possesses a high standard of morality. For this reason, he
both hates and fears the Jaalin, who inhabit the Nile banks between
Hagger el Asal and Berber, because they are almost the only Arabs in the
Sudan who maintain a well-regulated family life, and hold morality in
high esteem as a necessary condition for a healthy and contented
existence.

The widows of the Mahdi are forcibly prevented from leading a corrupt
life; as, immediately after his master's death, the Khalifa, in honour
of his memory, confined these women in houses surrounded by high walls,
in the immediate vicinity of his tomb, where they are strictly guarded
by eunuchs. Much against their will, not only the wives and concubines,
but also many of the young girls,--most of whom were daughters of former
Government officials, and who were taken into the harem when quite
young, in order to become his future wives,--have been thus forcibly
deprived of the possibility of re-marrying, and are so closely guarded
that they are only permitted to see their female relatives once a year.
They are supplied merely with the bare necessaries of life, and long for
their freedom. Let us hope that before very long it may come!

In spite of his despotism, the Khalifa is in considerable fear of his
life. He ruthlessly evicted all the local inhabitants of those portions
of the town in the immediate neighbourhood of his own residence; and
their places have been taken by his enormous body-guard, whose numbers
he daily seeks to increase. These he has surrounded by an immense wall,
within which he and his relatives live, while all persons of whom he is
in the slightest degree suspicious are forced to reside without the
enclosure. Within, however, all is not peace and contentment. The
constant duties he imposes on his body-guard have produced a feeling of
irritation. They grumble at the small pay they receive, and do not
appreciate the restrictions imposed on their social life. Thousands of
these who belong to the free Arab tribes are prevented from having any
intercourse whatever with their relations. They are scarcely ever
permitted to quit the enclosure; and their smallest offences are
punished with appalling severity. Abdullahi is surrounded day and night
by his own specially appointed guard, and by numbers of faithful
servants; and no persons--not even his nearest relatives--are permitted
to approach him with arms in their hands. Should any one be commanded to
see the Khalifa, his sword and knife, which he invariably wears, are
taken from him, and he is generally searched before being admitted to
the audience-chamber. This general mistrust has added to his
unpopularity; and, even amongst his most devoted adherents, remarks are
frequently let fall in an undertone, commenting on his despotism and his
personal fears.

In spite, however, of all this undue severity, the Khalifa has not
succeeded in keeping his own tribe in hand. On their first arrival in
the Nile valley, they indulged in wholesale raids on the local
population, seizing their grain, ravishing their women, and carrying off
their children. Indeed affairs became so serious that the Khalifa was
obliged to issue an order that no Taaisha Arab would be permitted to
leave the town without special permission; but his instructions were
practically ignored, and lawlessness is even more rife than before. The
conduct of these Arabs is unbearable. They openly boast that their
relationship with the Khalifa has made them masters of the country, and
that they intend to assert themselves. They have seized all the best
pastures for their cattle and horses; and they live on the fat of the
land,--a state of affairs which has caused considerable jealousy amongst
the other western tribes, who view the Taaisha with no very friendly
feelings. Of all this the Khalifa is well aware; but I do not think he
realises how unpopular he really is, and his constant effort is to
retain the sympathy of his Emirs by frequently sending them secretly by
night presents of money and slaves. The latter do not hesitate to accept
these gifts, which they know have been unfairly gained; and their
opinion of the Khalifa, instead of being improved, remains as it was
before. He imagined that the learned and educated element of the
population--which is exceedingly small--was on his side, because he
allowed Kadi Hussein to give lectures in the mosque after noon and
evening prayers on the subject of the Moslem rights of inheritance. As
all such re-unions were forbidden by the Mahdi, some of the Ulema
(learned men) were stupid enough to think that this new departure was a
sign of progress. The Khalifa himself attended these lectures; and,
noticing one day that some of the Ulema, in order to rest themselves,
sat cross-legged instead of in a submissive attitude of prayer, he
openly reprimanded them, and declared in a loud voice that all persons,
whether learned or ignorant, must in his presence pay him the respect
due to him. A few days later, Kadi Hussein inadvertently quoted in his
lecture a chapter to the effect that learning was a high virtue, and
that kings and princes should realise this, and accept the advice of
learned men. The Khalifa, who is utterly ignorant of reading and
writing, got up and left the mosque in a rage; and, a few days later, he
issued an order that the meetings should be discontinued for the future.
Kadi Hussein immediately fell in favour, and soon afterwards had the
further misfortune to disagree with the Khalifa on a question respecting
slaves. The latter had called upon the Kadis for an opinion as to
whether all male and female slaves who might have taken refuge with the
mulazemin, and were not claimed by their rightful owners within twenty
days, should not become the actual property of their new masters; but as
no persons living outside the wall are under any circumstances permitted
to enter the enclosure, it stands to reason that masters of runaway
slaves have no possibility of searching the quarters of the mulazemin.
On these grounds the Kadi suggested that runaway slaves should be
publicly exposed in the market-place for a short time, and that if no
one appeared to claim them within a specified period, they should then
become the property of the Beit el Mal. As the Khalifa had previously
given private instructions to his mulazemin to retain all slaves
belonging to the Nile valley tribes, and to return only those who
belonged to the western Arabs, the Kadi's proposition did not at all
suit him, whilst the other Kadis, to whom he had referred the matter,
concurred with him against Kadi Hussein. The friends of the latter now
trembled for his life; but the Khalifa allowed it to pass for the
moment, and is only waiting for some other opportunity to involve him
more deeply in what he is pleased to term "an act of disobedience."

The Khalifa has not moved out of Omdurman for upwards of ten years. Here
he has centralised all power, stored up all ammunition, and gathered
under his personal surveillance all those whom he suspects, obliging
them to say the five prayers daily in his presence, and listen to his
sermons. He has declared Omdurman to be the sacred city of the Mahdi. It
is strange to think that ten years ago this great town was merely a
little village lying opposite to Khartum, and inhabited by a few
brigands. It was not for some time after the fall of Khartum that the
Mahdi decided to settle there. Mimosa-trees filled up the space now
occupied by the mosque and the residences of the three Khalifas.
Abdullahi took as his own property all ground lying south of the mosque,
whilst that on the north side was divided between Khalifa Sherif and
Khalifa Ali Wad Helu. During his lifetime, the Mahdi had declared that
Omdurman was merely a temporary camp, as the Prophet had revealed to him
that he should depart this life in Syria, after conquering Egypt and
Arabia; but his early death had shattered all his plans and the hopes of
his followers.

From north to south, the new city covers a length of about six English
miles. The southern extremity lies almost exactly opposite the southwest
end of Khartum. At first, every one wanted to live as near the river
banks as possible, in order to facilitate the drawing of water,
consequently the breadth of the city is considerably less than its
length; and it is in no place over three miles in width. At first, it
consisted of thousands and thousands of straw huts; and the mosque was
originally an oblong enclosure surrounded by a mud wall four hundred and
sixty yards long and three hundred and fifty yards broad; but this has
now been replaced by one made of burnt brick, and then whitewashed over.
After this, the Khalifa began building brick houses for himself and his
brother, then for his relatives, whilst the Emirs and most of the
wealthy people followed his example. I have already described the
construction of the Mahdi's tomb; but before I left Omdurman much of the
whitewash had been knocked off by the weather, which spoilt its general
appearance. Above the apex of the dome are three hollow brass balls, one
above the other, connected together by a lance, the head of which forms
the top ornament of the structure. I have often heard people say that
the Khalifa erected this spear to show that he is perfectly prepared to
declare war against the heavens if his wishes are not carried out.
Occasionally Abdullahi shuts himself up for hours in this mausoleum,
probably with the object of obtaining some special inspiration; but
since the execution of the Mahdi's relatives, his visits are much less
frequent; and it is generally supposed he dreads to be alone with the
body of his dead master, whose tenets and influence he has, not in words
but in deeds, so persistently overturned. Every Friday, the large doors
in the surrounding enclosure are opened to admit the pilgrims; and as
every Mahdist is ordered to attend on these days to repeat the prayers
for the dead, thousands are to be seen in the various attitudes of
prayer, beseeching the protection of the Almighty through the
intermediary of the Saint (?) who lies buried there; but I doubt not
that many fervent prayers ascend to the throne of God for relief from
the terrible oppression and tyranny of his despotic successor.

South of the tomb, and adjoining the great mosque, lies the enormous
enclosure of the Khalifa. It consists of a high wall built of red
bricks, which is subdivided into several smaller courts, all of which
are in communication with each other; and nearest to the mosque are his
own private apartments, to the east of which are those of his wives, the
stables, store-houses, quarters of the eunuchs, etc., etc. In the centre
of the eastern face of the mosque is a large wooden door (the other
entrances to the mosque have no doors) through which admission is
obtained to the Khalifa's private apartments and reception chambers. On
entering the main gate, one passes through a sort of porch, leading into
a small court, in which are two rooms, one side of each of which is left
completely open; and it is here that the Khalifa receives his guests. A
door leads out of this court into the private apartments; and the
youthful attendants are the only persons allowed to enter. The various
houses within the enclosure are constructed in the shape of large
detached halls, on one or both sides of which are verandahs. On the roof
of one of these buildings a second story has been added, on all four
sides of which are windows, from which a complete view of the town can
be obtained.

The reception chambers are furnished with the greatest simplicity. An
angareb, over which a palm-mat is spread, is the only article of
furniture; but his interior apartments are provided with all the
luxuries it is possible to procure in the Sudan. Brass and iron
bedsteads with mosquito curtains,--the spoil of Khartum,--carpets,
silk-covered cushions, door and window curtains of every variety of
colour and texture, are the principal articles of furniture, while the
verandahs are provided with the universal angareb and palm-mat. Compared
with the Khalifa's early mode of life, these articles constitute the
most extreme luxuries.

To the east of the Khalifa's enclosure lies the house of his son, which
is furnished much in the same style as that of his father, but with even
greater luxury. Several large brass chandeliers from Khartum are
suspended from the ceilings; and there is an immense garden made from
earth transported from the banks of the Nile, and in which hundreds of
slaves are employed daily. The latter are justly irritated with the
great love of show which is the distinguishing characteristic of their
young master, whilst they themselves are provided with scarcely enough
food for their maintenance.

The Khalifa and his son spend much of their time in building and
furnishing new apartments, and in making their lives as pleasant and
comfortable as possible. Yakub follows their example; and every day
numbers of workmen are to be seen streaming towards these two houses,
carrying beams, stone, mortar, and other requisite building-material.
Khalifa Ali Wad Helu's house is very much smaller, and is furnished with
great simplicity.

In addition to his principal residence, Abdullahi possesses houses in
the northern and southern districts of the city; but they are built and
furnished on much simpler lines, and are merely used by him as
rest-houses when he despatches troops on expeditions from the capital,
or goes out to inspect freshly arrived detachments from the provinces.
He seldom stays in these houses more than a day or two at a time. He has
also built a house near the river, and close to the old Government fort,
the ditches of which have now been filled in. He generally goes to this
house when steamers are about to start for Reggaf, in order that he may
personally superintend embarkations.

The Beit el Amana, or arsenal, is separated from Yakub's house by a
broad open space. It consists of a large building enclosed by stone
walls, and here are stored the guns, rifles, ammunition, and other
warlike material, as well as the five carriages belonging to the
Governor-Generals and to the Catholic Mission. At intervals of every few
paces sentries are posted in small sentry boxes; and they are charged to
allow no unauthorised persons to enter the building. Just north of the
arsenal lies a building in which are stored the flags of all the Emirs
residing in Omdurman; and beside it is a semi-circular building about
twenty feet high, provided with stairs, where the Khalifa's war-drums
are kept. A little further to the east is the cartridge and small-arms
manufactory.

On the north side of the city, and close to the river, is the Beit el
Mal, which is an enormous walled-in enclosure subdivided into a variety
of courts in which are stored goods coming from all parts of the Sudan
and from Egypt, as well as grain stores and slave courts. A little to
the south of the Beit el Mal lies the public slave-market, and, in close
proximity, the Beit el Mal of the Mulazemin has been erected.

The town of Omdurman is built for the most part on fairly level ground,
but here and there are a few small hills. The soil consists mostly of
hard red clay, and is very stony, with occasional patches of sand. For
his own convenience, the Khalifa has driven large straight roads through
various parts of the town; and to make way for these numbers of houses
were levelled, but no compensation was given to their owners. A glance
at the rough plan attached to the end of the book will give the reader
an approximate idea of the extent and general situation of the town and
principal buildings, and its relative position with reference to
Khartum, which is now a complete ruin, the dock-yard alone being kept
up, and communication between it and Omdurman maintained by a submarine
cable worked by some of the former Government telegraph officials.
Outside the large unfinished wall built along the road leading to the
Beit el Mal are a number of shops belonging to the various trades, all
of which are kept quite distinct,--such as carpenters, barbers,
tailors, butchers, etc., etc. The Mehekemet es Suk (market police) are
charged with maintaining order in the town; and the gallows erected in
various parts of the city are a very evident indication of the system of
government of the country.

The population of the city is located entirely according to tribes. The
western Arabs live for the most part in the southern quarters, whilst
the northern portion has been allotted to the Nile valley people; and in
addition to the market police, the various sections of the populace are
obliged to supply a number of watchmen for the preservation of public
security in their respective quarters, and they must report any
disturbances to the night patrols.

With the exception of the few broad roads which the Khalifa has made for
his own convenience, the only communications between the various
quarters consist of numbers of narrow winding lanes; and in these all
the filth of the city is collected. Their wretched condition, and the
smells which emanate from these pestilential by-paths are beyond
description. Dead horses, camels, donkeys, and goats block the way; and
the foulest refuse lies scattered about. Before certain feast-days, the
Khalifa issues orders that the city is to be cleaned; but, beyond
sweeping all these carcases and refuse into corners, nothing further is
done; and when the rainy season begins the fetid air exhaling from these
decaying rubbish heaps generally produces some fatal epidemic, which
sweeps off the inhabitants by hundreds.

Formerly, there were cemeteries within the city; but now all the dead
must be buried in the desert north of the parade ground.

Fever and dysentery are the prevailing maladies in Omdurman, and between
the months of November and March an almost continuous epidemic of typhus
fever rages.

Of late years numbers of new wells have been made. Those north of the
mosque give good water; but those in the southern quarters of the city
are mostly brackish. They vary in depth from thirty to ninety feet, and
are generally dug by the prisoners under the direction of the saier.

[Illustration: Coming from Market, Omdurman.]

"He has been taken to the Saier," is an expression one frequently hears;
and it means that some wretched creature has been carried off to the
prison. The mere mention of this word awakens feelings of horror and
dread in the minds of all who hear it. The prison is situated in the
southeastern quarter of the city, near the river, and is surrounded by a
high wall. A gate, strongly guarded day and night by armed Blacks, gives
access to an inner court, in which several small mud and stone huts have
been erected. During the day-time, the unhappy prisoners, most of them
heavily chained and manacled, lie about in the shade of the buildings.
Complete silence prevails, broken only by the clanking of the chains,
the hoarse orders of the hard-hearted warders, or the cries of some poor
wretch who is being mercilessly flogged. Some of the prisoners who may
have specially incurred the Khalifa's displeasure, are loaded with
heavier chains and manacles than the rest, and are interned in the small
huts and debarred from all intercourse with their fellow-prisoners. They
generally receive only sufficient nourishment to keep them alive.

Ordinary prisoners receive no regular supply of food; but their
relatives are allowed to provide for them. It often happens that long
before a meal reaches the person for whom it is intended, a very large
portion of it has been consumed by the rapacious and unscrupulous
warders; and sometimes the prisoner gets nothing whatever. At night, the
wretched creatures are driven like sheep into the stone huts, which are
not provided with windows, and are consequently quite unventilated.
Regardless of prayers and entreaties, they are pushed pell-mell into
these living graves, which are generally so tightly packed that it is
quite impossible to lie down. The weaker are trampled down by the
stronger; and not infrequently the warder opens the door in the morning
to find that some of his victims have succumbed to suffocation and
ill-usage in these horrible cells. It is a painful sight to see scores
of half-suffocated individuals pouring out of these dens, bathed in
perspiration, and utterly exhausted by the turmoil of the long and
sleepless night. Once emerged, they sink down, more dead than alive,
under the shade of the walls, and spend the remainder of the day in
trying to recover from the effects of the previous night, and gain
sufficient strength to undergo the horrors of that which is to follow.

One would think that death was preferable to such an existence. Still
these unfortunates cling to life, and pray to God to relieve them from
their sufferings. In spite of the prison being invariably overcrowded,
and notwithstanding the horrors of prison life, I do not ever remember
having heard of a case of suicide amongst the unfortunate inmates.

Charles Neufeld has spent some years in the Saier, often ill, subject to
the greatest privations, and merely kept alive by the occasional
supplies which reached him through the Black servant he brought with him
from Egypt, and who, in turn, was assisted by the other Europeans in
Omdurman. He managed to survive, though heavily chained by the neck, and
wearing two large irons round his feet. On one occasion, he refused to
spend the night in one of the stone huts, which he aptly described as
"the last station on the way to Hell," and for this act of disobedience
he was severely flogged; but he bore it without a murmur, until his
tormentors--amazed at his powers of endurance--cried out, "Why do you
not complain? Why do you not ask for mercy?" "That is for others to do,
not for me," was the strong-hearted reply which gained for him the
respect of even his gaolers. After enduring three years of imprisonment,
his irons were lightened; and, with only a chain joining his ankles, he
was removed to Khartum, where he was ordered to refine saltpetre for the
manufacture of gunpowder, under the superintendence of Wad Hamednalla.
Here his condition was much improved; and he received a small monthly
remuneration for his work, which sufficed to provide him with the bare
necessaries of life. As the saltpetre refinery adjoins the old church of
the Mission, the latter has thus been saved from destruction. After his
daily hard work is over, Neufeld is allowed to rest in the Mission
gardens; and here, no doubt, his thoughts often revert to his family at
home, and he must in his heart curse the evil day which induced him to
quit Egypt, and thoughtlessly venture into the clutches of the Khalifa.
For him fate has indeed been cruel; and most fervently do I hope that
ere long he may be reunited with his relatives, who have not abandoned
all hope of seeing him again. In Europe, there is no lack of friends who
are ready to do all in their power to help him; but it rests with God
alone to release this poor captive from his misery.

It makes my heart ache to think of all the horrors that have been
enacted in that dreadful prison. There was the sad case of poor Sheikh
Khalil, who had been despatched from Cairo with letters to the Khalifa,
informing him of the number and names of the prisoners who had been
captured at the battle of Toski, all of whom, he was assured, were being
well cared for, and would eventually be set free; and he was requested
to hand over to the Sheikh the sword and medals of General Gordon,
which, it was assumed, were in his possession. Khalil's companion,
Beshara, was sent back with the letters unanswered, whilst the
unfortunate emissary, who was an Egyptian by birth, was thrown into
chains, under the pretext that he had been sent as a spy. Ill-treated
and deprived of nourishment, he became so weak that he could not rise
from the ground. His tormentors even refused him water to drink; and at
last death came to him as a happy release from his sufferings.

Malech, a Jewish merchant of Tunis, who had come to Kassala with Abu
Girga's permission, was seized by the Khalifa's orders, and brought to
Omdurman, where he remains in captivity in the Saier to this day. He is
as thin as a skeleton, and is driven almost to despair. He is kept
alive by the efforts of his own community, who have been forced to
become Moslems, and who succeed in providing him with small quantities
of food.

Two Ababda Arabs, arrested on suspicion of carrying letters to Europeans
in Omdurman, were seized and imprisoned, and died soon after of
starvation. The alarm in the European colony was great; but fortunately
it transpired that the letters were for a Copt from his relations in
Cairo.

The great Sheikh of the Gimeh tribe, Asakr Abu Kalam, who had shown such
friendship and hospitality to the Khalifa and his father in early days,
was ruthlessly seized and thrown into chains, because it came to the
Khalifa's ears that he had spoken disparagingly of the present condition
of the Sudan, and had expressed regret at having taken up arms against
the Government. He was eventually exiled to Reggaf, whilst his wife, who
was a well-known beauty in the Sudan, was torn from the arms of her
husband at the hour of his departure, and carried off to the Khalifa's
harem.

The well-known Emir, Zeki Tummal, on being seized, was thrown into a
small stone building the shape of a coffin, the door of which was built
up. He was given no food whatever; but a small amount of water was
handed to him through an aperture in the wall. For twenty-three days, he
suffered all the horrors of starvation; but no sound or complaint was
heard to issue from that living grave. Too proud to beg, and well aware
of the futility of doing so, he lingered on till the twenty-fourth day,
when death carried him out of reach of his tormentors. The saier and his
warders watched, through the aperture, the death agonies of the wretched
man; and when at length he had ceased to struggle, they hurried off to
give their lord and master the joyful news. That night Zeki's body was
removed to the western quarter of the city, and there buried amongst a
heap of old ruins, with his back turned towards Mecca.[18] The Khalifa,
not content with having tormented him in life, thought thus to deprive
him of peace in the world to come.

I have already described how the Khalifa disposed of his most trusted
adherent, the Kadi Ahmed. On reaching the Saier, he was thrown into the
hut in which Zeki had been interned; and, a few days after, he was
visited, at the command of the Khalifa, by two other Kadis, who asked
where he had hidden his money. "Tell your master, the Khalifa," said he,
"that I have settled my account with this world; and I know of no place
where gold or silver can be found." To their further inquiries he
remained perfectly silent; and the two myrmidons returned, crestfallen,
to their master. This happened only a few days before I quitted
Omdurman. Since my return to Egypt, I have ascertained that he died
shortly afterwards, under similar circumstances to those of Zeki.

One could fill a volume with descriptions of the horrors and cruelties
enacted in the terrible Saier; but it is useless to weary the reader
with further accounts of the atrocities committed by order of that
merciless tyrant, the Khalifa.




CHAPTER XVIII.

PLANS FOR ESCAPE.

    European Captives in Omdurman--Artin, the Watchmaker--Friends in
    Cairo--Efforts of my Family to help me--Difficulties of
    Communication--Babakr Abu Sebiba's Failure--Efforts of Baron
    Heidler and the Egyptian Intelligence Department--Constant
    Failures--Osheikh Karrar--Abderrahman matures his Plans--Hopes
    and Fears--My Plan to gain Time--I quit my Hut never to return.


In keeping me constantly close to his person, the Khalifa had a twofold
object. He knew that I was the only remaining high Egyptian official who
had a thorough knowledge of the Sudan, had traversed almost the entire
country, and was complete master of the language. Utterly ignorant of
the political situation, he imagined that if I succeeded in escaping, I
should induce the Egyptian Government, or some European power, to enter
the Sudan; and he well knew that in that case I should form a link
between it and the principal tribal chiefs who were disaffected to him,
and longed for the return of a settled form of Government. On the other
hand, it flattered his vanity to have practically as his slave the man
who had formerly governed the whole of the great province of Darfur,
including his own country and tribe. He never attempted to conceal his
feelings in this respect, and frequently said to the western Arabs,
"See, this is the man who was formerly our master, and under whose
arbitrary rule we suffered. Now he is my servant, and must obey my
commands at all times. See, this is the man who formerly indulged in the
pleasures and vices of the world, and now he has to wear an unwashed
jibba and walk barefooted. God indeed is merciful and gracious!" He paid
much less attention to the other European captives, who gained a small
livelihood by working at various trades in a quarter near the
market-place, where they had built their own huts, and were left almost
undisturbed by the other inhabitants of the city. Father Ohrwalder lived
by weaving. Father Rosignoli and Beppo Rognotto (a former Mission
brother) kept a cookshop in the market-place, and the Sisters lived with
them until--with the exception of Sister Theresa Grigolini--they
succeeded in escaping. Then there is Giuseppe Cuzzi, one of A. Marquet's
former clerks, and a number of Greeks, Syrian Christians, and Copts,--in
all some forty-five men who have married either Christians born in the
country or Egyptians. The entire colony is termed the Muslimania[19]
quarter, and they have elected from amongst themselves an Emir, under
whose orders they agree to live, and who is responsible to the Khalifa
for every member of the colony. The present Emir is a certain Greek
called Nicola, whose Arabic name is Abdullahi. No one is on any account
allowed to quit Omdurman; and they are obliged to guarantee each other.
Consequently when Father Rosignoli escaped, his companion Beppo was
thrown into prison, and was in chains when I left the town. After Father
Ohrwalder's flight a much stricter surveillance was exercised over all
these unfortunates. A place has been allotted to them in the
northeastern portion of the mosque, where they have to attend prayers
daily; but not being under special control, they take it in turns to be
present, so that, in case of inquiry, the colony shall always be
represented. Their huts are built adjoining each other, and in this way
they can communicate without difficulty, and thus derive some
alleviation of their sad lot by mutual sympathy; but their children are
obliged to live in the various tekias (religious rest-houses), where
they are taught the Kuran.

I have already described my own surroundings and mode of life; and it
now remains for me to add that I was only permitted to converse with a
few of the body-guard who were, like myself, either under surveillance
or specially employed as spies by the Khalifa to watch and report our
every action and word. I was seldom permitted to enter the town; and I
was strictly forbidden to make any visits.

The Khalifa is very fond of watches and clocks; and one of my many
duties was to wind them up, and generally look after them. I availed
myself of this privilege to occasionally visit an Armenian watchmaker
named Artin, on the pretext that a clock or watch required repair. His
house was situated near the market-place; and here I used to arrange
meetings with some of the people I particularly wished to see. I never
confided in Artin, and those who came to the shop invariably made some
small purchases; and in doing so we succeeded in exchanging, as it were
quite casually, a few words. Most of my time was spent at the Khalifa's
gate reading the Kuran. I was not permitted to write, as Abdullahi
thought it unnecessary for me to practise an art of which he himself was
ignorant. I invariably accompanied my master to the mosque, or when he
appeared in public, and on these occasions my duties were somewhat those
of an aide-de-camp. Being in receipt of no salary, my food was of the
simplest, and consisted generally of asida, various sorts of sauces, and
occasionally a little meat purchased in the market.

Abdullahi knew perfectly that I longed for freedom; and, in spite of all
my efforts to conceal it, I could not overcome his very rational
suspicion of me. By constant gifts of slaves, by offers of marriage with
his family, and various other expedients, he did all he could to make
ties which he thought would hold me down; but my continued refusal of
these very questionable benefits only confirmed his suspicions that I
intended to escape on the first possible occasion. After the fall of
Khartum, my family had done all in their power to obtain news of me; but
fortunately they realised how careful they must be. Herr Von Gsiller,
the Austro-Hungarian Consul-General in Egypt, spared no pains to get
news of me, and his efforts were heartily seconded by the officers
attached to the Egyptian army, and other officials. It was at his
suggestion that my relatives had communicated with me through the
Governor of Suakin, in 1888; and I have described in the preceding pages
how I was eventually forbidden by the Khalifa to hold any further
intercourse with the outside world. Already my relations with the
Khalifa had become much strained, owing to these events; and they became
much more so when a letter reached the Khalifa from Herr Von Rosty (who
had succeeded Herr Von Gsiller), asking his permission to send a priest
to minister to the members of the Mission, who, he stated, were Austrian
subjects. At the same time, he had written to me asking for information
on the present situation in the Sudan. The Khalifa, of course, took no
notice of Herr Von Rosty's letter, and accused me of duplicity and
disloyalty, because I had previously informed him that the members of
the Mission, with the exception of Father Ohrwalder, were Italians. I
had deliberately done this, as I feared that Abdullahi, in one of his
sudden outbursts of passion against me, might vent his rage on those
whom he believed to be my compatriots, and whom I was anxious to save;
but now this letter, stating directly the contrary, was a heavy blow. It
was quite beyond the Khalifa's capacity to understand that members of
various nationalities could be, for the purpose of the Mission, under
Austrian protection; and for a long time he incessantly upbraided me for
having deceived him.

My family had placed a considerable sum of money at the disposal of the
Austrian Consul-General, with the object of assisting me; and they,
through the kind intervention of the various Sirdars of the Egyptian
army, and of Major Wingate, the Director of Military Intelligence,
succeeded in sending me occasional sums by the hands of trustworthy
Arabs. Of course I invariably received considerably smaller sums than
those which had been originally confided to them, though I was obliged
to give receipts for the full amounts. However, I was truly thankful
for what I received; and by the system which was established I was
enabled to send my relatives scraps of information about myself and my
affairs. I was obliged to exercise the most extreme caution in spending
the money thus received, lest suspicion should be aroused; and therefore
I continued to live as simply as possible, and expended all I could
spare in cementing my various friendships.

My friends in Cairo had fully realised that, after I had been prevented
from holding any communication with the outside, it was quite impossible
for them to secure my release from the Khalifa's hands by ordinary
methods. They therefore spared no efforts to afford me the means of
affecting my escape should an opportunity occur. From the earliest days
of my captivity, I had realised that my only hope of freedom lay in
flight; and although the rise and development of this great movement
interested me considerably,--especially as I had exceptional means of
watching it,--I never for an instant abandoned the idea of succeeding in
my object, though I little dreamt that twelve long years of hardship,
misery, and humiliation must elapse before it could be accomplished.

For years, I did not confide my secret to a soul; but eventually I told
Ibrahim Adlan of my intentions; and he promised to assist me to the best
of his ability. Unfortunately, the Khalifa executed him soon afterwards;
and in him I lost a true and kind friend and protector. On his death, I
confided my secret to two influential individuals on whose silence I
could rely; and though I knew that partly owing to their liking for me,
and partly owing to their hatred of the Khalifa, they would have
willingly assisted me in the accomplishment of my object, our
negotiations came to nothing. The money required would, I knew, be
forthcoming; but they dreaded that after my escape their names might be
eventually divulged; and as they were tied by their families to live in
the Sudan, they knew that, in the event of discovery, the Khalifa would
wreak his vengeance on their defenceless wives and children.

Meanwhile, my family had not been idle; and no sacrifice was too great
for their love. Living in Vienna, ignorant of the real state of affairs
in the Sudan, and not aware of how they could best help me, they
trustfully continued to place considerable sums of money at the disposal
of the Austrian Agency in Cairo, the representative of which received
instructions from the Minister of Foreign Affairs to utilise it to the
best of his ability. His Excellency Baron Heidler von Egeregg--now
Ambassador and Minister Plenipotentiary, and who has been for some years
Consul-General in Cairo--took a personal interest in my affairs, and did
everything in his power to facilitate my escape. But it is only possible
to secure the services of reliable persons through the intermediary of
Government officials; and with this object in view, he enlisted the
sympathies, first of Colonel Schaeffer Bey, and subsequently of Major
Wingate, who had on several previous occasions endeavoured to assist me;
and it is to his and to Baron Heidler's incessant efforts that I owe my
freedom. Without their intervention, it would not have been possible to
procure reliable Arabs to bring me occasional sums of money; and I owe
to them my heartiest thanks for their frequent attempts to effect my
rescue; and although, with the exception of the last, they all failed,
the arrangements were such that the Khalifa and his myrmidons never had
the slightest suspicion of them.

Early in February, 1892, the former chief of the Dongola camel postmen,
Babakr Abu Sebiba, arrived in Omdurman from Egypt. He was an Ababda
Arab; and when brought before the Khalifa, he asserted that he had
escaped from Assuan, that he sought the Khalifa's pardon, and begged to
be allowed to settle down in Berber. As he had letters of introduction
to the Emir of Berber, Zeki Osman, permission was accorded to him; and
when going out at the door of the mosque, he nudged me, and whispered,
"I have come for you; arrange for an interview." "To-morrow after
evening prayers, here in the mosque," was my reply; and he then
disappeared. Although I had not given up hope of escape, I never dared
to be very sanguine; for I had had much experience of these Arabs and
Sudanese, and knew that often their words go for nought, and their
promises are more frequently broken than kept. I therefore spent the
following day much as usual, though I could not help wondering what
would be the upshot of the interview.

After evening prayers, and when all the people had left the mosque,
Babakr passed the door at which I had seen him the previous day.

Cautiously I followed him; and together we entered the thatched portion
of the building, which was in deep shade. Out of sight, and out of
hearing, Babakr now handed me a small tin box, which, from the smell,
seemed to contain coffee, saying, "This box has a double bottom. Open
and read the papers enclosed in it; and I shall be here again to-morrow
at the same hour." Concealing the box under my jibba, I returned to my
place, and, as chance fell out, was summoned that evening to sup with
the Khalifa. Imagine my feelings: for the box was sufficiently large to
be seen under my clothes; and here was I seated opposite my master with
his lynx eyes fixed on me. Fortunately he was rather tired, and only
talked on general subjects; though he did not fail to caution me to be
loyal, or he would punish me unmercifully. Of course I assured him of my
fidelity and affection for him; and, after having partaken of a little
meat and dhurra, I feigned sudden illness, and obtained permission to
withdraw. Hurrying home with all speed, I lit my little oil lamp, tore
open the box with my knife, and there found a small piece of paper, on
which the following words were written in French:

    Babakr Wad Abu Sebiba is a trustworthy man.

    (Signed.) SCHAEFFER, COLONEL.

On the other side of the paper were a few lines from the Austrian Agency
confirming this. The writers had wisely omitted my name, fearing that it
might fall into the hands of enemies; and now I had to exercise more
patience until the following evening.

As agreed, I met Babakr as before; and he briefly informed me that he
had come to arrange my escape, and that, having seen me, he would return
to Berber to complete his preparations. As the Emir Zeki Osman had been
ordered to come to Omdurman in July for the manoeuvres, he proposed to
accompany him, in order to carry out his object. I assured him that I
was ready at any time to make the attempt; and, after imploring him to
do all in his power to help me, we parted. He returned, as arranged, in
July with Zeki Osman; and, in a secret meeting, he told me that, in
order to disarm suspicion, he had got married in Berber; that he had
brought four camels with him, but that he had not yet arranged about our
crossing the river. Should I, however, decide to risk flight, he would
guide me through the Bayuda desert and by El Kaab (west of Dongola) to
Wadi Halfa; but I knew that the camels could not possibly perform such a
journey in the height of summer. I soon saw that the man wanted to spend
a few more months in the Sudan, probably with his newly acquired bride;
and so we agreed to postpone the attempt till the month of December,
when the long nights would be more favourable to the enterprise. Months
passed; and I heard from secret sources that Babakr was still at Berber.
December went by, and the year 1893 had begun. Still no sign of my
friend. At length he returned in July, and told me that the messenger
whom I had despatched to Cairo asking for £100 had been delayed on the
road; and that as he had arrived there at a time of year when the
journey would have been impossible, the authorities had refused to
supply him with the funds. He added, however, that he had brought two
camels, and that if I would risk flight, he would try to procure a
third. I saw that the man had been making inquiries, and had ascertained
that at most it would only be possible for me to obtain a few hours'
start, which would not be sufficient to insure success; besides he knew
that it was out of the question starting in July. When, therefore, I
proposed again postponing flight till the beginning of the winter, he
readily acquiesced merely for form's sake. His constant visits to
Omdurman had aroused the Khalifa's suspicions; and one of the Kadis
notified him that he must attend the mosque five times daily, and should
not leave Omdurman without the Khalifa's permission. Alarmed probably at
the turn affairs had taken, he escaped and returned to Egypt. Three days
after he had left, his absence was discovered. On his arrival in Cairo,
as I subsequently learnt, he informed those who had sent him that he had
frequently come to Omdurman; but that I had persistently refused to risk
flight with him. Baron Heidler and Major Wingate, however, realised that
the man's statement was untrue; and some time later I had an opportunity
of informing them, through a trusty agent, of the man's behaviour.

These gentlemen subsequently made an agreement with a merchant named
Musa Wad Abderrahman, promising him £1000 if he succeeded in effecting
my escape, while at the same time he was furnished with what was
necessary for the undertaking. In the winter I received information of
this fresh enterprise; but it was not till June, 1894, that one of
Musa's relatives, named Ahmed, told me that some Arabs had been secured
who would arrive in a few days, and would attempt to fly with me. He
also told me that a station had been prepared in the desert, where a
change of camels would be in readiness, and that, in spite of the great
heat, there was every prospect of the success of the undertaking.

On 1st July, Ahmed warned me that the camels had arrived, and that I
should be ready to start the next night. That evening, I told my
servants that one of my friends was dangerously ill, and that I had
obtained the Khalifa's permission to visit him, that I would probably
stay the night, and that, therefore, they need not be uneasy if I did
not return. That night, when my master had retired to rest, accompanied
by Ahmed, I quitted the mosque; and, with bare feet and armed only with
a sword, we hurried along the road leading towards the parade ground,
and then turned off in a northeasterly direction.

The night was dark. During the day the first showers announcing the
beginning of the rainy season had fallen; and, as we crossed the
cemetery, I put my foot into an old grave, which had been washed out by
the rain, and my foot got twisted in the bones of the skeleton on which
I had stepped. It seemed as if the dead as well as the living were
conspiring to throw difficulties in my path; but, in spite of the pain,
I struggled on, and reached Khor Shambat. We crossed to the other side,
where it was arranged the camels would await us. We searched up and down
the banks. Ahmed even called out in a low tone; but not a sign of them
was to be seen. The night was cool; but our efforts had bathed us in
perspiration, and, after wandering to and fro for hours, in our vain
search, we were at length obliged to give up and retrace our steps. What
could have happened to our men? Could they have been noticed by some
Dervishes who had perhaps arrested them on suspicion? Full of doubts and
fears, we reached our homes in safety. I had parted from Ahmed on the
parade ground; and I had begged him to let me know in the evening what
had happened. At the same time, I repeated that I was prepared to renew
the attempt at any time. The dawn was just breaking as I reached the
threshold of my hut, which I had quitted a few hours before, as I
thought for the last time, and my feelings can be better imagined than
described I had scarcely been back more than a few minutes, when one of
my fellow mulazemin, named Abdel Kerim, arrived with a message from the
Khalifa to inquire the reason of my absence from morning prayers. I
replied that I had been ill; and indeed my wretched appearance almost
warranted such an assertion.

In vain I waited that evening for news from Ahmed; but I did not learn
from him till two days afterwards, that the Arabs had reconsidered the
matter, and had come to the conclusion that the risk of recapture was
too great, and had returned to their homes instead of coming to the
place of rendezvous. So we had completely failed, and considered
ourselves lucky to have returned unnoticed from our midnight ramble.

Again I informed my Cairo friends of what had happened. They were
unsparing in their efforts, and had now the valuable aid of Father
Ohrwalder, who, when in Vienna, had visited my family, and had obtained
from them some ether pills, which are very strengthening on a journey,
and ward off sleep. They had been prepared by Professor Ottokar Chiari,
and had reached me safely. They were in a small bottle which I had
buried carefully in the ground.

I now made a confidant of Abderrahman Wad Harun, whom I despatched to
Cairo with a message to Baron Heidler to place at his disposal the
requisite means for my escape. Again an agreement was made between this
merchant and the Austrian Agency, with the concurrence of Major Wingate,
and the assistance of Milhem Shakkur Bey and Naum Effendi Shukeir of the
Intelligence Department. If successful, Abderrahman was to receive
£1000; and he was also given the necessary outfit and £200 in advance.

Meanwhile, Major Wingate, who had been despatched to Suakin as acting
Governor, fearing another failure, made a similar agreement with a local
Arab named Osheikh Karrar, who, it was arranged, should attempt my
rescue _via_ Tokar or Kassala. One day, a Suakin merchant in Omdurman
handed me a small slip of paper, on which was written,--

    We are sending you Osheikh Karrar, who will hand you some
    needles, by which you will recognise him. He is a faithful and
    brave man. You can trust him. Kind regards from Wingate.

    (Signed.) OHRWALDER.

Soon afterwards I heard from one of Abderrahman Wad Harun's relatives
that the latter had arrived at Berber from Cairo, and was making
preparations for my escape; but in order to avoid being suspected, he
had decided not to come to Omdurman, and in this I fully concurred.

The 1st of January, 1895, had dawned. How many weary years of
deprivation and humiliation I had spent in closest proximity to my
tyrannical master! And would this year come and go like the rest,
leaving me still in his clutches? No. I felt sure that the time was at
length approaching when my friends would be able to break asunder the
bonds which held me down, and that I should once more see my relatives,
fatherland, and the friends of my youth.

One evening, about the middle of January, a man I had never seen before
passed me in the street, and made a sign to me to follow him; and as I
brushed up against him, he whispered, "I am the man with the needles."
Joyfully I led him in the dark to a little niche in the outside wall of
my hut, and begged him to tell me his plans quickly. He first presented
me with three needles and a small slip of paper, and then, to my dismay,
told me that at present flight was impossible. "I came," said he, "with
the full intention of taking you to Kassala; but now that military posts
have been formed at El Fasher, Asubri, and Goz Regeb on the Atbara,
which are in constant communication with each other, flight in this
direction is not possible." He added further that one of his camels had
died, and that he had lost money, owing to bad trade; and, in
consequence, he had not sufficient means to arrange for the escape. He
therefore begged that I would give him a letter to Major Wingate, asking
for a further sum of money, and promising to return again in two months.
I felt sure that the man did not really mean to risk his life for me;
and, as he informed me he wished to leave without delay, I told him to
meet me the following evening at the mosque. We then separated; and I
returned once more to my post at the Khalifa's door. The note from
Suakin contained a few lines of recommendation from Father Ohrwalder, to
which I wrote a reply, briefly describing what had taken place; and the
next night when we met, I handed to Osheikh the letter, which he
hurriedly thrust into his pocket, hoping that it would be the means of
obtaining more money.

Bitterly disappointed, I was returning disconsolately to my house, when
I suddenly came across Mohammed, the cousin of my friend Abderrahman. As
if by mere chance I found him walking at my side; and, in a whisper, he
said to me, "We are ready. The camels are bought; the guides are
engaged. The time arranged for your escape is during the moon's last
quarter next month. Be ready!" and without another word he left me.

This time I felt convinced that I was not to be doomed to
disappointment. Towards the end of January, Hussein Wad Mohammed, who
had also been engaged by Baron Heidler and Major Wingate, arrived in
Omdurman, and secretly told me that he was ready to help me to escape.
He begged me to let my friends in Cairo know what I had decided to do,
and said that one of his brothers, who was about to proceed to Egypt,
would be the bearer of the letter. As I was bound to Abderrahman, I
decided to wait and see if his efforts would succeed, and, should they
fail, I decided I would try Hussein; but I merely told the latter that
at present I was not well enough to attempt so long a journey, and that
at the end of February I would let him know definitely my decision. At
the same time, I gave him a letter to my friends telling them that I
intended to attempt escape with the assistance of Abderrahman; and, in
case of failure, from which I prayed the Almighty to preserve me, I
would seek the help of Hussein. I was now in some alarm that, so many
people being in the secret, the Khalifa might suspect something. Had he
obtained the slightest clue to what was going on, I should have
certainly paid for it with my life.

On Sunday, the 17th of February, Mohammed, in a few hurried words, told
me that the camels would arrive the next day, that they would rest two
days, and that the attempt would be made on the night of the 20th. He
said that on Tuesday evening he would communicate with me by a sign by
which I should know that everything was ready; and that I should then
do all in my power to arrange that we should have as long a start as
possible.

At last Tuesday night arrived, and I found Mohammed waiting for me at
the door of the mosque. In a hurried whisper he told me that all was
ready; and, after arranging a rendezvous for the following night, when
the Khalifa had retired to rest, we separated.

I confess that I passed the greater part of that night in a state of
fevered excitement. Would this attempt also fail like the others? Would
some unforeseen event frustrate this effort too? These thoughts kept me
awake and restless; and it was not till towards morning that sleep,
which was so necessary to keep up my strength during the journey, came
at length, and I had two or three hours of sound repose.

The next morning, when before the Khalifa's door, I feigned sickness,
and asked the chief of the mulazemin for permission to absent myself
from morning prayers, as I proposed taking a dose of senna tea and
tamarind, and remaining quietly at home the following day. The necessary
permission was accorded, and Abdel Kerim promised to make my excuses to
the Khalifa should he inquire for me. I felt sure that my master, when
he knew that I was not present, would, under the pretext of solicitude
for my health, send to my house to see if I was really there; but I
could think of no other way of accounting for my absence.

Before sunset, I assembled my servants, and, after making them promise
to keep secret what I was about to say, I told them that the brother of
the man who had brought me letters, money, and watches from my relatives
seven years before, had arrived with a further consignment, and that, as
he had come entirely without the Khalifa's knowledge, I had decided to
keep his arrival secret. I told them that I intended visiting him that
night, as I wished to arrange with him without delay, and let him return
at once. My good domestics, of course, believed the story implicitly;
and I knew the thought that they would share some of the good things
which were supposed to have come, would make them keep the secret. In
continuation of my imaginary scheme, I ordered my servant Ahmed to meet
me the next day at sunrise at the north end of the city, near the Fur
quarter, with my mule. I told him not to be impatient if I happened to
be late, as the business in hand was important, and might take some time
to arrange; but that on no account was he to leave the rendezvous, as I
intended to give him the money I received to take home. I impressed upon
the others the necessity of maintaining perfect silence, as I ran a
great risk of being discovered. Should any of the mulazemin ask for me,
I told them to reply that I had been very unwell during the night, and
had ridden off, accompanied by my servant Ahmed, to seek advice of some
man whose whereabouts they did not know, but that they supposed he was
some one who could cure illness. To make my story appear more real, I
gave my servants to understand that I should receive a considerable sum
of money the next day, and, in anticipation, I presented them with
several dollars apiece. My object in making these arrangements was to
secure a few hours' delay before the hue and cry that I had escaped
should be raised. My servant Ahmed would probably wait for some hours
with the mule, while those in the household would anxiously expect my
return with the money. I naturally concluded that, should the Khalifa
send to inquire for me, the reply which my servants were to give, would
avert suspicion for a time; and then it would take more time for them to
find Ahmed, and his story of the arrival of the supposed messenger would
still further perplex them. Of course they must eventually find out the
deception; but to me every moment's delay in sending out search parties
was of the utmost importance. After afternoon prayers, I once more
returned to my house, again impressed on all my servants the immense
importance of keeping the secret, and with repeated promises of reward,
I stepped across the threshold, praying fervently to God that I might
never set foot within my hut again.




CHAPTER XIX.

MY FLIGHT.

    I escape from the Town by Night--My Guides Zeki Belal and
    Mohammed--A Scare--130 Miles in 21 Hours--Our Camels break
    down--Hiding in the Gilif Mountains--Precautions against
    Surprise--Arrival of Fresh Camels--Our Journey to the Nile--The
    Crossing--Friendly Sheikhs--Narrow Escape from a Large Armed
    Party of Mahdists--Difficulties with my Guides--Hamed Garhosh
    the Amrabi--Out of Danger--Assuan at last--Congratulations and
    Welcome--Arrival in Cairo--Meeting with Old Friends.


It was three hours after sunset. We had offered the evening prayer with
the Khalifa, and he had withdrawn to his apartment. Another hour passed
without interruption. My lord and master had retired to rest. I rose,
took the farwa (the rug on which we pray) and the farda (a light woollen
cloth for protection against the cold) on my shoulders, and went across
the mosque to the road that leads north. I heard a low cough, the signal
of Mohammed, the intermediary in my escape, and I stood still. He had
brought a donkey. I mounted, and was off. The night was dark. The cold,
northerly wind had driven the people into their huts and houses. Without
meeting a soul we reached the end of the town where a small ruined house
stands obliquely to the road, from which a man led out a saddled camel.
"This is your guide. His name is Zeki Belal," said Mohammed. "He will
guide you to the riding camels that are waiting concealed in the desert.
Make haste. A happy journey, and God protect you."

The man sprang into the saddle, and I got up and sat behind him. After
about an hour's ride, we arrived at the spot where the camels were
hidden among some low trees. All was ready, and I mounted the animal
assigned to me.

"Zeki," said I, "did Mohammed give you the medicine?"

"No; what medicine?"

"They call them ether pills. They keep off sleep and strengthen you on
the journey."

He laughed. "Sleep!" said he. "Have no fear on that account. Fear is the
child of good folk, and will keep sleep from our eyes, and God in his
mercy will fortify us." The man was right enough. We rode in a northerly
direction. The halfa grass and the mimosa-trees, which in places grew
rather close together, prevented the camels from making rapid progress
in the darkness. At sunrise we reached Wadi Bishara, a valley extending
here to a breadth of about three miles, which is sown in the rainy
season with millet by the Jaalin tribes who live along the Nile.

With daylight I was now able to see my guides. Zeki Belal was a young
fellow, with his beard still downy; Hamed Ibn Hussein, a man in the
prime of life.

"Of what race are you?"

"We are from the Gilif mountains, master; and if God will, you will be
satisfied with us."

"How long a start have we got from our enemies? When will they miss
you?" the elder one asked me.

"They will look for me after the morning prayer; but before all doubt is
over as to my escape, and before the men and the beasts are found with
which to pursue me, some time must elapse. We may at least reckon on
twelve or fourteen hours' start."

"That is not very much," answered Hamed. "But if the animals are up to
their work, we shall have left a good bit of ground behind us."

"Don't you know our animals? Have they not been tried?" I asked.

"No. Two of them are stallions of the Anafi breed, and the third a
Bisharin mare, bought expressly for your flight from friends," was the
answer. "We must hope the best of them."

[Illustration: Slatin Pasha flying from Omdurman.]

We drove the creatures at their swiftest pace. The country in these
parts was flat, broken now and then by solitary shrubs, with here and
there small stony hillocks. We rode without stopping until near midday,
when suddenly my guide called out,--

"Halt! Let the camels kneel down at once. Be quick!"

I stopped. The camels knelt.

"Why?"

"I see camels a long way off and two led horses, and fear we have been
seen."

I loaded my Remington to be prepared for any issue. "But if we have been
seen," I said, "it is better to ride quietly on. Our making the animals
lie down will excite their suspicion. In what direction are they going?"

"You are right," said Hamed Ibn Hussein. "They are marching northwest."

We rose and changed our line of march to the northeast, and were almost
confident that we had passed unobserved when, to our despair, we
perceived one of the party, which was about two thousand metres away
from us, jump on his horse and gallop swiftly towards us.

"Hamed," said I, "I will go slowly on with Zeki. Do you stop the man,
and answer his questions, and in any case prevent him from seeing me
close. You have the money on you?"

"Good; but march slowly!"

I rode on quietly with Zeki, hiding my face with my farda, so as not to
be recognised as a white man.

"Hamed is greeting the man, and has made his camel kneel," said Zeki,
looking back. After about twenty minutes, we saw the man remount his
horse, and Hamed urging his camel on to rejoin us.

"You must thank God for our safety," he cried, as he came up. "The man
is a friend of mine, Mukhal, a Sheikh, on his way to Dongola with camels
to bring dates to Omdurman. He asked me where I was going with the
'white Egyptian.' The man has the eyes of a hawk."

"And what did you answer?"

"I adjured him as my friend to keep our secret, and gave him twenty
Maria Theresa dollars. We Arabs are all a little avaricious. The man
swore a sacred oath to me to hold his tongue if he happened to fall in
with our pursuers; and his people are too far off to tell black from
white. Urge the camels on; we have lost time."

At sunset, we passed the hills of Hobegi, and camped nearly an hour
later in the open country about a day's journey west of the Nile, so as
to give our exhausted animals some rest. We had been riding twenty-one
hours without stopping, had eaten nothing all day, and only once drunk
water. In spite of fatigue we ate bread and dates with a good appetite.

"We will feed our beasts and then get on," said my guide. "You are not
tired?"

"No," I replied. "In Europe we say time is money. Here one might say
time is life. Make haste."

But to our despair the beasts refused the food which was placed before
them. Hamed made a little fire, took a piece of burning wood and a
little resin, which he laid on the wood, then walked round the camels
muttering some words which I could not understand.

"What are you doing?" I asked him, with some surprise.

"I fear the fikis of the Khalifa have bewitched our camels, and am
trying the Arab's antidote."

"For my part," I replied, "I fear that they are second-rate market
camels, or are sick. Let us give them a little more rest. Perhaps they
will pick up."

As, after another half-hour's rest, the beasts still refused food, and
longer delay was out of the question, we tightened up the saddle-girths
again and mounted. The tired animals refused to trot, would only walk at
a good pace, and as the sun rose we found ourselves on the high ground
to the northwest of Metemmeh. The diminishing strength of our mounts
filled us with anxiety, and it became clear to us that they would never
hold out till the spot, about a day's journey north of Berber, on the
edge of the desert, where we were to change camels. Towards afternoon,
we let the exhausted animals rest in the shade of a tree, and agreed to
make for the Gilif range, distant a good day's journey to the northwest,
where I should remain concealed in the uninhabited hills until my guides
could succeed in securing other mounts.

About sunset we struck camp. The animals had so far recovered that they
could walk at a good pace, and we reached, in the early morning, the
foot of the Gilif mountain, which at this spot is quite uninhabited. We
dismounted, driving our camels before us after an extremely difficult
march of about three hours in a valley hemmed in by sheer rocks.

My guides, Zeki Ibn Belal, as well as Hamed Ibn Hussein, both belong to
the Kababish tribe. The Gilif mountain is their own country; and they
were familiar with every path. We unsaddled the camels, and concealed
the saddles among the boulders.

"We have come into our own country; and she will protect her son," said
Hamed Hussein. "Have no fear; as long as we live you need have no
misgiving. Remain quietly concealed here. A little way off there is a
cleft in the rocks containing water. I will water the animals there.
Zeki will bring you a water-skin full. I will also hide the beasts
elsewhere, that our halting-place may not be betrayed by the vultures
circling above. Wait for me here; and we will see what our next step
must be."

I was alone and somewhat depressed. I had hoped to make a straight dash
for the Egyptian frontier, and to out-distance my pursuers by speed; and
now a crowd of unexpected obstacles was gathering round me. About two
hours later, Zeki arrived with the water-skin on his shoulders.

"Taste the water of my native land," he cried. "See how fresh and pure
it is. Take confidence. God, if He will, will bring our enterprise to a
happy end."

I drank a deep draught. It was delicious indeed.

"I am full of confidence," I said to Zeki; "but a little put out by the
delay."

"Malaish kullu shai bi iradet Illahi (It matters not. All happens as God
ordains), and perhaps this delay has its good side too. Let us wait for
Hamed Hussein."

Soon after midday Hamed came. We ate our frugal meal of bread and dates,
and while doing so arranged that Zeki should ride to the friends who
were privy to my escape, a brief two days' journey, and fetch new
animals.

"I will ride the Bisharin mare," said Zeki. "She is strong, and has not
yet got to the end of her tether. This is Saturday evening. I shall ride
all night and to-morrow, Sunday. Monday morning early, please God, I
shall reach our friends. We must allow one to two days there; because,
it may be, no animals will be ready. But, Thursday or Friday, I should
get here with fresh camels if no misfortune happens to me."

"It is better to put it a little later," I answered. "We will wait for
you here till Saturday. If you arrive sooner, all the better; but
remember that our life is in your hand. Above all, be cautious in
bringing the animals, that you arouse no suspicion."

"Trust in our good fortune and my good-will," and he grasped my hand in
farewell.

"God protect you, and bring you back right soon."

He tied a few dates up in a cloth as provision for the journey, and took
the saddle on his shoulders. Hamed described the spot accurately to him
where he would find the mare. As he turned, he enjoined us to be careful
not to be seen; and in a few moments he was lost to sight. We cleared
the ground which was to serve as our night's resting-place, of stones,
and were in the best of spirits as to our success.

"I have a proposal to make to you," said Hamed to me after a long
interval. "A relation of mine, Ibrahim Masa, is Sheikh of this district,
and has his house at the foot of the hill, about four hours' distance
from here. Now though, as I hope, no one has seen us, still it would be
better to warn him of our arrival, so that he may be prepared for any
eventuality. I will describe our situation to him without mentioning
your name. As my kinsman, he is bound to give us asylum, and would warn
us in time of pursuit, if it should be that our track is followed to the
base of the hills, though indeed this is scarcely to be feared. If you
agree, I will go during the night, so as to see him without being
observed by other people, and will be back with you early in the
morning."

"The plan is good; but take twenty more dollars with you, and offer them
as a small contribution to his house, and, as you have said, do not
mention my name."

Hamed left me at sunset; and I was alone with my thoughts. I thought of
my housefolk and companions, to whom, in spite of the difference of race
and of many unattractive qualities, I had grown accustomed in the long
course of years, and whom I had just left behind me in the hands of the
enemy. I thought of the dear ones I was now on my way to meet, of my
sisters, my friends and well-wishers. If only my adventures have a
successful issue! Exhausted with fatigue, I fell asleep on my hard bed.
I woke while the dawn was gray, and shortly afterwards heard the sound
of approaching footsteps. I knew it must be my guide.

"All goes well," said he as he came up. "The Sheikh, my kinsman, greets
his unknown guest, and bids God protect you. Fortify yourself with
patience. For the present, we have nothing else to do."

He sat down between two blocks of stone, from which his dark skin was
hardly distinguishable, and kept watch. I sat a short distance below in
the shade of a little tree which struggled for existence among the
rocks; and we talked in low tones of the present and the former
condition of the country. It was past midday when I suddenly heard
behind the noise of footsteps, and, turning round, I saw, to my disgust,
a man about one hundred and fifty yards off, climbing the slope opposite
me, trying to draw the end of his farda, which was twisted round his
loins, over his head. Judging from the direction he had come from, he
must have seen us.

"In any case it is a fellow-countryman," said Hamed, who had heard the
sound, and had perceived him. "Anyhow it will be better that I should
overtake him and speak with him. Or do you not agree?"

"Certainly, make haste, and if necessary, give him a small present," I
answered.

My companion left his seat, and followed the man at a swift pace. He had
now reached the crest of the hill and passed out of my sight. A few
minutes later, I saw them both approaching me with smiling faces.

"We are in luck," Hamed cried from a distance. "He is one of my numerous
relations. Our mothers are children of two sisters."

The man came up to me and offered his hand in greeting.

"The peace of God be with you. From me you run no danger," he said as he
sat down on the stone at my side.

I gave him a few dates, and bade him taste our travelling fare. "Who are
you?"

"They call me Ali Wad Feid," he replied; "and, to be honest with you, my
intentions were not well disposed to you. I was changing my pasture
ground, and arrived a few days ago with my flocks at the foot of those
hills which you see from here to the south. I went to the cleft in the
rocks to see if there were much water there, because we might need it,
although we also get drinking-water in the plain. There I found traces
of a camel, and followed them up. When, in the distance, I saw the white
skin of your feet which were sticking out of your hiding-place, I
realised that a stranger was concealed here, and tried to get away again
unobserved, so that," said he, smiling, "I might return again with a few
comrades by night, and make your further journey easier by removing your
superfluous luggage. I thank God that my cousin here caught me up. By
night I should not, perhaps, have recognised him."

[Illustration: Slatin in hiding in the hills.]

"Ali Wad Feid," said my guide, who had listened in silence, "I will
tell you a little story. Listen! Many years ago, when I was a little
fellow, in the days when the Turks ruled in the land, my father was
Sheikh of these mountains, which then were thickly peopled. One night
there came a man, a fugitive, who sought asylum with my father. He was
closely pursued by Government troops, under suspicion of being a highway
brigand who had murdered some merchants. His women fell into the hands
of his pursuers; but he himself sought and found protection with my
father, who kept him in concealment. A long while after, my father went
to the seat of Government at Berber, and by money and fair words
succeeded in obtaining pardon for the man, against whom there existed no
definite proofs of guilt. He went bail for him, and set free his women,
who were in prison. That man's name was Feid --"

"And he was my father," interrupted Ali, whose face had grown grave
during his narrative. "I was born later, and heard the story from my
dead mother, on whom God have mercy. My brother, let me give you good
tidings. What your father did for mine, his son will do for your
father's son. In peace or in peril I am with you. But, follow me, and I
will show you a better hiding-place."

We went some two thousand yards back round the hill towards the south,
and reached a sort of little grotto formed of rock slabs, large enough
to hold two men.

"When evening comes bring your baggage here, although there is nothing
to fear, since the hills are uninhabited; but under the cover of
darkness you can choose some other spot in the neighbourhood to sleep
in. It is impossible to be quite sure that some one may not have
perceived you, and have the intention which I confessed to have had, of
returning after dark. I have lost time, and my road is a long one. I
will go, pick up what news I can, and return to-morrow when it is dark,
announcing my presence by a low whistle. Farewell till then!"

As Ali Wad Feid had advised us, we selected a place to sleep in, and
early in the morning, before the sun rose, retired again to our cave.
Throughout the day Hamed Hussein kept watch from a high point of
vantage, like a sentry on a tower, and only came to me when driven in
by hunger. Our bread came to an end this day, and we had only dates to
eat.

In the evening, two hours maybe after sunset, we heard a low whistle. It
was Ali Wad Feid, who, faithful to his promise, had come to visit us. He
brought some milk in a small vessel of gazelle-skin (the skin of young
gazelles is tanned by the Arabs, and now much used for carrying milk
in), and had rolled up some bread (millet cakes) in his farda.

"I pretended to my wife that I was going to visit the caravan folk, and
show them hospitality," he said, after greeting us. "I cannot trust her
with the truth, she is such a chatterbox."

"A feminine quality which many married men complain about in our country
at home," I remarked with a smile, delighted at the prospect of such a
grateful meal.

"I made inquiries at the well," he continued, "and heard of nothing to
cause you uneasiness. Eat and drink your fill. I have every confidence
in your good luck."

After we had done honour to his good fare, I begged him to return so as
not to awake suspicion with his own folk by remaining out unduly long,
and whispered to Hamed to give him a present of five dollars before he
went.

"Do not return," I said to him in taking leave. "Your comings and goings
may excite suspicion among your people, and your footsteps may perhaps
leave traces on the ground which would betray our hiding-place to
others, unless, of course, you hear any really disquieting news.
Farewell. I thank you for your loyal friendship."

Hamed Hussein accompanied his kinsman some little way.

"Ali would not take the money," he said, when he returned. "I had to
press him very hard; and it was only the fear of offending you which
induced him at last to accept it."

We once more selected our couches, and rested undisturbed till the
morning, when we returned to the cave, or rather I did, for my
companion had to go back to his post as watchman. This day went by
equally without event, but how slowly the time seemed to pass! The hours
grew to days, and thoughts succeeded thoughts in weary sequence. My
patience was severely tried, but there was no help for it, and nothing
to do but to bear it.

As our water supply threatened to fall short, Hamed Hussein went with
the skin to the cleft in the rocks. At the same time, he intended to
look up the camels, which had been hobbled, and were getting what food
they could from trees and bushes.

"I shall return in about four hours. Meanwhile, remain quiet in the
cave," he said to me, "and should any one appear,--which God forbid!--it
could only be one of my own countrymen, for no stranger gets so far as
this, detain him, and tell him that Hamed Wad Sheikh Hussein is coming
in a little while. But do not yourself enter into any negotiation, and
above all do not spill blood."

"I will follow your counsel whatever happens," I replied; "but I trust
you will find me here undisturbed when you return."

My guide returned with the water-skin full even before the time he had
indicated.

"I found the camels somewhat recovered, at any rate in appearance," he
said, with evident satisfaction. "Give me a few dates. I am hungry, and
must return to my watch tower."

The rest of the day passed slowly, but without episode. At night we
betook ourselves to our sleeping-place, talked for a while in a low
voice, and prayed that our patience might not be put to too hard a
trial.

On Thursday morning, Hamed had gone as usual to his post of observation;
and it must have been about midday when I suddenly saw him climb down
from his seat I clutched my rifle.

"What is the matter?"

"I see a man running in the direction of our former hiding-place. It
must mean news. Remain here till I come back."

I sat down and waited for what seemed an eternity. Then I rose with
caution to have a look out, and saw, a long way off, two people
approaching me. My eyes could make out Hamed, and with him was Zeki
Belal. As I stepped from my hiding-place, he perceived me, and ran up.

"God give you greeting, master. Here is good news for you," said he,
shaking my hand. "I have arrived with two fresh camels, and have hidden
them some way behind. I will be off and fetch them." And he hurried back
again.

About an hour later, he arrived with the new animals.

"You have been quick," I cried with delight. "Now tell your story."

"It was Saturday evening when I left you," he replied. "I rode all night
and all day. My Bisharin mare went splendidly over the ground, which was
tolerably level, and on Monday morning I reached our friends. They sent
immediately for the beasts you now see, which were at a considerable
distance. They came in early on Tuesday. I started at midday. I rode
slowly so as not to wear them out, and now we can start at once. And,
oh, I had almost forgotten to tell you that your friends, after
discussing it with me, went off to the camp on the edge of the desert,
to warn their people there to be ready. I promised we would reach the
tryst on Friday, or at latest on Saturday after sunset."

"Did you bring bread?" I asked the youth, who was talking away in high
spirits. "We have got nothing but dates to eat."

"Good heavens! I forgot that in my haste."

"No matter," I replied, seeing him look rather crestfallen. "Even
without dates we could hold out for this short ride."

"Zeki," said Hamed, "saddle the light-coloured camel, go with our friend
and brother to the hollow rock, and give the camels water. Wait for me
there. I will take the other saddle and follow with my own camel, which
has recovered sufficiently to stand this comparatively short march. But
it will be better," he added, turning to me, "that you should not go
right up to the spring, but remain hidden in some suitable spot near
till we fetch you. One never can be too sure. There are so many thirsty
folk in the wide world."

I went with Zeki, leading one of the camels, towards the cleft where the
water was, and hid myself in a place my guide suggested, among the
boulders of rock.

About two hours before sunset, Hamed and Zeki came with the three camels
that had just been watered, and the skins all filled. We mounted and
rode east northeast across hills, which at times were very steep to
climb, till, as darkness gathered round us, we arrived in the plain
without having been observed.

Throughout the night, we rode without a halt at a slow trot or a walk,
and at daybreak Hamed calculated we had left half the road behind us.

"This is the most critical day of our journey," said my guide. "We come
into the neighbourhood of the river, and cross pasture grounds of the
river tribes. God grant we reach our destination unobserved."

The aspect of the country does not change. The veldt, as one may call
it, is covered with a thin mat of grass, with here and there clumps of
half-dried mimosa bushes. The ground is sandy, and at times covered with
stones. We rode on without stopping, and ate our frugal meal, which
consisted of nothing but dates, as we rode. When the sun was at the
zenith, we saw in the distance a flock of sheep with its shepherds. We
turned a little aside from our straight course, and Zeki rode off to
them to ask for news; but when he rejoined us he said he had learned
nothing of interest. Though we came upon constant tracks of camels,
donkeys, sheep, eta, in the soil, our eyes detected nothing which caused
us concern, and the country had become quite flat again.

"Do you see the broad, gray band in front crossing from south to
northwest?" Hamed asked me. "That is the great caravan track which leads
from Berber to Wadi Gammer and Dar Shaigia. If we pass that without
being seen, we have nothing more to fear, for between this and the river
there is only stony ground, without a vestige of vegetation, and quite
uninhabited. But now you must follow my directions closely. Let the
camels advance at a slow pace, and each some five hundred paces from the
next till we reach the big track. When we get there we will turn into
the road and proceed for a few minutes in the direction of Berber. Then
we will leave it again, and march in an easterly direction. Do you see
that stone hillock about three miles away? There we will join again.
This is the only way to put any one who may be pursuing us off our
track."

We did as he had instructed us, crossed the caravan road, which is at
most times tolerably frequented, without seeing a trace of any one, and
met again at the spot indicated.

"And now urge the animals on. Don't spare them. Let them do us their
last service," said Hamed, with a merry laugh. "All has gone well."

Since I left Omdurman I had not seen a laugh upon his face, and I knew
that on this side of the river we had nothing more to fear.

So on we went, driving the weary camels forward with the stick without
much mercy, till, leaving a range of hills on our right, we reached the
Kerraba.

The Kerraba is a plateau with a sandy soil. The surface is covered with
black stones, ranging from the size of a man's fist to that of his head,
packed closely together. Single blocks of rock are seen at a certain
distance one from another. The animals could scarcely make any progress
over the rolling level. It was a break-neck march. Towards evening, we
saw the Nile in the far, far distance, like a silver streak across the
landscape. Climbing down from the plateau in the darkness we reached a
valley lying between stony hills. We halted and took the saddles off.
The river was about two hours' march away.

"Our mission is near its end," said Hamed and Zeki, as they sat on the
ground munching dates. "Stay here with the animals. We will go to a spot
we know near the river; and there we shall find your friends, who will
escort you on."

I was left alone, looking forward in the highest spirits to the future.
Already in imagination I saw my own people, saw my fatherland. I awoke
after midnight. No one had come, and I began to feel somewhat concerned
at the delay, for if they did not soon return I could not cross the
river that night. It was not till some two hours before dawn that I
heard footsteps. It was Hamed.

"What news?" I asked impatiently.

"None!" was the despairing answer. "We could not find your friends at
the place indicated. I returned because you cannot remain here after
daybreak. You are too near human habitations, and exposed to the risk of
being seen. I left Zeki behind to look for your people. Take the
water-skin on your shoulders and some dates. I am too exhausted to carry
anything. We must go back on to the Kerraba. There you must stay till
the day is over, hidden among the stones."

I did as I was bidden, and reached the plateau in about an hour. After
we had marched a little further in the darkness, Hamed stood still.

"Stop here," he said. "Make a ring of stones as camel-herds do in winter
to protect themselves from the cold, and lie down between them. You know
how to do it. You are just as much an Arab as one of us. In the evening,
I will come again to fetch you. I go back to the camels. The people of
these parts know me, and I have nothing to fear. If they ask me any
questions I shall say I have come from Dar Shaigia to look up some
people who are settled here. Luckily, I have some relations here also."
He went back. I stood upon the rolling plain alone--abandoned.

I piled the stones on top of one another to a height of about half a
metre, leaving just room enough between for myself, my water-skin, and
my gun. Morning began to grow gray, and I crept into my hiding-place.
The ground beneath was sandy. I dug it up with a flat, pointed stone,
and heaped up sufficient between the piles of slabs to prevent my being
seen from without. I flung myself on my back in weariness, and stretched
out my limbs. Again reflection came and thoughts thronged past. I looked
back again to the past, and pictured to myself the Khalifa's anger at my
flight. My imagination sped once more towards my dear ones. I longed to
be united to them again, and, unanticipated, almost insuperable
obstacles seemed to be springing up round me. What change has come over
me? Where is my motto of "Never despair?" However desperate the
circumstances in which I may have found myself, I have never lost
courage, never abandoned confidence in my ultimate good fortune. To-day
a sense of fear is pressing on me. Perhaps it is that I am already lying
in what will be my grave. But that is, after all, the end of every man.
Be his days long or short, he can go no other way. And yet to die in a
strange land forsaken! God, up there in heaven, have mercy on me, have
mercy on a miserable man who, if he has sinned, has surely bitterly
atoned for his transgressions. God have mercy on me! Let me see my
friends and dear ones, my fatherland again!

Then I grew calm once more. After all, I thought, in spite of a few
little delays, affairs are not so bad. To-night, I shall cross the
river. To-morrow, I reach the desert. In two or three days, I shall be
beyond the reach of danger, and fly towards those I crave to see. I
smiled once more, and grew full of confidence and hope. The sun was
burning hot. I had brought my farda, and held it up over me to keep my
face in the shade, waiting in patience for what would follow.

A little after midday, I heard a low whistle, and raised myself to look
out over the stones. It was Hamed, who approached me smiling.

"Good news," he cried. "We have found your people."

A sense of joy possessed me as I caught his words, and my lucky star
was once more in the ascendant. When he came up to me, he sat down
outside the stones.

"You may make yourself more comfortable," he said. "I have kept a good
lookout all round. You have nothing to fear. Zeki found your people
before daybreak, and just now one of them came over to us to find out
where we were. They are ready. In the evening, they will come to fetch
you. But you will have to take great care, for your flight is known in
this part of the country. Come with me now, or, better still, wait till
darkness comes on. I am going now. Can you find the way alone, or shall
I come back for you?"

"It is not necessary for you to go over the ground again. I know the
place, and will join you in the evening."

The sun had disappeared from the horizon when, with gun and water-skin
slung upon my back, I left the spot which had cost me such bitter hours
of reflection. When I reached my companions, I found myself in the
presence of two men who were strangers to me.

They greeted me, saying, "We are sent by your friend Ahmed Wad Abdalla,
and are of the Gihemab tribe. We will take you down to the river. He
himself will cross the stream with you. On the other side, the camels
are waiting ready to take you across the desert. Take leave of your
guides. Their task is done."

I shook my old friends by the hand, and thanked them with words which
came from the heart for their devotion. "Farewell, and may we meet again
in better times of peace."

We saddled two camels and left the third to my former guides. I mounted,
and one of the new-comers got up behind me.

"What is your name?" I asked him.

"They call me Mohammed, sir, and my companion's name is Ishaak."

"Do you go with me across the desert?"

"No, there are others told off for that. Let the camel walk slowly; and
it will be better to cover your face in spite of the darkness. Orders
came from Berber three days ago to have all the roads closely watched;
and the ferries have been put under observation. Still, in our country,
you have nothing to fear."

After proceeding for about two hours in an east northeast direction, we
approached the river. We could hear the groaning of the water-wheel, the
cries and laughter of the slaves and their women at work. As we came up
to a small clump of bushes, Mohammed, who was riding behind me, sprang
down and said, "Make the camel kneel down, slowly--gently, that he may
not grunt, and so attract attention."

They knelt down without a sound.

Bidding me remain there till they returned with Ahmed, they disappeared
into the darkness. I waited about an hour, and then saw four men
approaching. The tallest of them came up and embraced me. Pressing me to
his breast, he said in a low voice,--

"God be praised. Welcome to the land of my fathers. I am your brother
Ahmed Ibn Abdalla, of the tribe of Gihemab. Believe my words, you are
saved. Mohammed, Ishaak, take the saddles off the camels quietly. Make
no noise. Ride a good way on along the stream. Blow the water-skins full
of air, and tie them round the camels' necks. Then cross the river at
different spots, and to-morrow await my orders near the stones of the
'Fighting Bull.' Meantime, do you follow me," he said, turning to me.

He himself, with the fourth man, took the saddles on their backs, and I
followed. A few minutes later, we reached the shore of the sacred Nile,
and found, in a little hollow washed out by the current, a tiny boat
constructed by my friends themselves, scarcely large enough to hold us.
We climbed down the steep bank, got into the boat, and pushed off. It
took us more than an hour to cross the stream. When we reached the far
side, the other man, who had remained in the little boat, guided it back
into the river, and bored a hole in the bottom, swimming to the land
while the boat sank in the stream, and with it disappeared all traces of
our crossing. We marched for about half an hour, and then Ahmed Abdalla
bade me wait there while he went away, to return soon after with a dish
of milk and bread.

"Eat and drink," said he, "and have no more fears as to the success of
your flight, for I swear to you by God and the Prophet you are saved. I
had intended that you should start to-night; but the hour is already too
late. It will be better that you should wait till to-morrow evening.
Besides, to-morrow is the day when your camels should be watered. As we
are here too near to human habitations, my nephew, Ibrahim Ali, will
conduct you to a place some distance off which is difficult of access.
Wait for me there. I will bring you an animal to ride, or do you feel
strong enough to go on foot?"

"I am strong, and can walk," I replied. "Where is Ibrahim Ali?"

"He is here; and he will be your guide through the desert."

It was a black night. Ibrahim went first with an empty water-skin in his
hand along the caravan track leading beside the river to Abu Hamed, and
I followed. After proceeding about three English miles, he went down to
the river, filled the skin half full, and then changed the direction,
turning inland. The march was very difficult. The big stones with which
the hills were covered hindered one's progress. I was dead beat, and
staggered about to right and left like a drunken man. At last we halted
by a hollow in the ground.

"This is the spot which my uncle indicated," said Ibrahim, who had kept
silence up till now. "Remain quietly here without misgiving. To-morrow
evening, I shall bring the camels, and we will start. Here is water and
bread. I will return now to make my preparations."

Once more I was alone. Once more I was exposed for a long day to the
scorching sun; but now it was easy for me to bear, for I was near to the
goal I had longed for so wildly. At last the sun disappeared from the
horizon; and, after waiting about an hour more, I heard the sound of
hoofs moving quickly over the stones. I rose, and recognised Ahmed
Abdalla, accompanied by two men on donkeys.

Springing off in haste, he pressed me warmly to his breast. "God be
thanked that you are safe! These two men," pointing to his companions,
"are my brothers, and have come with me to wish you luck."

I pressed their hands in greeting, and, turning to Ahmed, said, "But I
do not understand you--your tremendous spirits--"

"Of course not," he replied, "for you do not know the great danger you
have escaped. Listen! Three days ago, the Emir of Berber, Zeki Osman,
learned, we know not how, that the Egyptian garrison at Murrat had
received important reinforcements, and intended to attack the Mahdist
station at Abu Hamed. Zeki Osman is sending reinforcements, and to-day
at noon sixty horsemen and about three hundred foot soldiers passed our
dwellings. You know these wild bands who call themselves Ansar
[defenders of the faith]. We had killed a sheep, and were busy preparing
a portion for you to take with you on the road, when they suddenly came
upon us by surprise. They consumed what was intended for your provision,
and then scattered in search of loot. We were in terrible anxiety on
your account, fearing one of these wild fellows might find his way to
your hiding-place. Now they have marched on. The curse of God go with
them! Thanks be to Him, who has protected you!"

And I also humbly thanked my Creator, who had saved me from this great
and unexpected danger. As I learned later, the Commander-in-chief of the
Egyptian army, General Kitchener Pasha, had come to Wadi Haifa to
conduct the usual manoeuvres. Captain Machell Bey marched with the
Twelfth Sudanese Battalion and two hundred of the Camel Corps from Wadi
Haifa to Korosko by Murrat, and this accounted for the rumour of a
strengthening of the garrison at Murrat, and the contemplated attack on
Abu Hamed.

"The camels will be a little late," said Ahmed, continuing. "I sent them
hastily away into the interior when the Dervishes came in, for fear they
might press them into service to carry their ammunition or other
baggage. If, however, you feel inclined to rest in patience till
to-morrow, we should be able to procure fresh provisions."

"No. I want at all hazards to start at once, and want of provisions will
not alter my resolve," I replied. "I trust the camels will come soon."

It was towards midnight when they brought in the three animals. Ahmed
Abdalla presented my two guides to me. "Ibrahim Ali, the son of my
brother, and Yakub Hassan, also a near relative of mine. They will
conduct you to Sheikh Hamed Fedai, the head of the Amrab Arabs, who are
subject to the Egyptian Government. He will assist you in getting on to
Assuan."

We filled the water-skins and took our leave.

"Forgive the failure of provision for your journey," said Ahmed Ibn
Abdalla. "It is not my fault. You have meal and dates, enough to keep
hunger off, though there are no luxuries."

We rode three hours and a half east northeast before the sun rose, and
as the dawn grew gray found ourselves east of Wadi el Homar (the Vale of
Asses), which, though called after the wild asses which inhabit it, is
in a great measure devoid of vegetation. As we proceeded, the country
assumed the genuine characteristics of the desert,--wide stretches of
sand, with here and there, at long intervals, ridges of hills, but never
a tree or trace of grass. After riding for two days, almost without a
halt, we reached the hills of Nuranai, formerly occupied by the Bisharin
Arabs. The valley, running in a northeasterly direction for the most
part, between ridges with very steep walls, grows mimosa-trees along
either side, and in one lateral valley are trees which take their name
from the hills.

Ibrahim Ali got off and took an observation from the heights, and,
finding that the valley was quite unoccupied, we entered it, hastily
watered our camels, and partially filled our water-skins.

The well lies in a hollow some twenty-five yards across, and some
eighteen feet deep, dug out with a sharp decline towards the centre.
Down this sloping plane there are slabs of rock and stones, serving as
steps, by which one descends to the water-hole in the middle. As wells
are always places where people are apt to collect, we left the spot and
rested in the plain, after crossing the hills of Nuranai in about three
hours.

There was a great difference between my former and my present guides.
The first were brave, devoted fellows, ready even to sacrifice their
lives for me, whereas these new ones were just the contrary. They
grumbled at the service which it seems their relative Ahmed Abdalla had
forced upon them, and were forever complaining of want of sleep and
hunger, and at the danger of the enterprise, the reward for which would
go to others. Through their carelessness they had dropped my sandals and
tinder-box on the road; and the loss of the former was destined to cause
me much trouble later on.

The next day, a Thursday, we reached the groves of Abu Hamed an hour
before noon, and though the tribes who at present live in these parts
are hostile to the Mahdists, I preferred to remain hidden. Ibrahim Ali
and Yakub Hassan had been ordered by Ahmed Abdalla to guide me to Sheikh
Hamed Fadai; but this did not suit their views.

They came to me in the afternoon and represented to me the risk they
would incur if their people missed them for many days. Since it was
certain everything would come to the Khalifa's ears which was calculated
to throw light on the question of who had helped me in my flight, and
since their tribe was already under suspicion of being friendly to the
Egyptian Government, there was danger not only for them but also for my
friend Ahmed Abdalla. In conclusion, they begged to be allowed to go and
look for a man who was well known to them both, and living in these
parts, who would conduct me further. I saw that their reluctance would
prove of more harm than service to me as I proceeded further, and agreed
to their proposal, almost with alacrity, so distasteful had both my
guides become to me, and bade them settle the matter as quickly as
possible according to the best of their powers.

It was not yet sunset when they brought back the man in question. He was
an Amrab Arab named Hamed Garhosh, and considerably the wrong side of
fifty in years.

"Every man looks to his own advantage and profit," he said curtly to me
after the greeting. "Your guides, whom I know well, wish me to show you
the way from here to Assuan. I am ready to do so, but what shall I earn
by the job?"

"On the day of my arrival, I will pay you there one hundred and twenty
Maria Theresa dollars, and in addition a present, which I shall
calculate according to the manner in which your duties are
accomplished."

"I accept," said he, giving me his hand. "God and the Prophet are my
witnesses, that I trust you. I know your race. A white man does not lie.
I will bring you to your own folk, across untrodden mountain ways, known
only to the fowls of the air. Be ready. After the sun is down we start."

I selected the strongest of the three camels for the remainder of my
journey, took two water-skins, the greater part of the dates, and a
portion of dhurra for my provision. As the darkness closed in Hamed
Garhosh arrived.

His son had gone away on the only camel which he possessed, to the
country of Robatab near the river, to fetch grain, and he was therefore
obliged to perform his functions as guide on foot. Since the road was
most of it mountainous, however, and the camel could only go at a foot's
pace, he would not be any the worse off on that account. It was merely a
question of good-will and stout legs. I took leave of Ibrahim and Yakub
with few words; and, there was no doubt about it, we were mutually glad
to part company.

After a march of more than two days, crossing for the most part bare
ridges and stony hills, we reached, on Sunday morning, a small well,
nearly dried up, called "Shof el Ain;" and though presumably it was not
likely to be visited by any one, I waited for my guide, as he desired,
at a spot an hour's distance from it.

Our food consisted of dates and bread which we baked ourselves. That is
to say, an apology for bread, for I am convinced, though my guide prided
himself particularly on his talent, that the stuff which he produced
would give our European bakers a proper sense of disgust, both on
account of its appearance and its taste. To prepare it, my guide piled
together a lot of stones about the size of pigeon's eggs, and laid dry
wood on top of them. Then he kneaded dhurra mixed with water in a wooden
vessel, and lighted his pile of fuel with flint and tinder. When the
wood had burned out, he removed the embers from the glowing stones,
poured his dough over them, and then replaced the embers on the top of
that again. A few minutes after he rescued his work of art from its
fiery grave, beat it severely with a stick, to remove the superfluous
ashes and stones which stuck to it, and served it up. This abortive
production we ate, if not quite with pleasure, at any rate with hearty
appetite, and realised the truth of the proverb. After resting a little
while, we left the neighbourhood of the fountain, and, in a few hours,
reached the first slopes of the Etbai mountains.

These mountains (El Etbai), stretching between the Red Sea and the Nile,
are inhabited in the southern portion by Bisharin and Amrab Arabs, and
in the north by the Ababda tribe. Between lofty black cliffs, absolutely
bare of vegetation, rising in sheer perpendicular, stretch broad valleys
well wooded, which the camel-breeders of these tribes pasture in. We
traversed a well-nigh impassable road, moving on without resting,
impelled by my desire to see my own folk and to finish the weary
journey as quickly as possible. Though we had nothing more to fear, for
we were by now out of the power of the Mahdists and on Egyptian
territory, my guide insisted on the importance of not being seen. He was
afraid of being recognised by the people, who have commercial relations
with the Sudan. Since his home lay on the border, and he was often
obliged for various reasons to go to Berber, the knowledge that he had
served me in my flight might be fraught with most serious consequences
for him.

But with him the spirit was willing though the flesh was weak. Being
already advanced in years, the want of proper food and the overtaxing
march had their effect on his health. In addition to this, he felt the
cold, which was often severe, so much that he fell ill, although I had
made over to him my jibba, and had nothing myself upon my body but the
farda and hezam (a strip of woollen cloth to wind round the body, eight
to nine yards in length). In order to get on I made over the camel to
him for the last four days, and walked behind him with my bare feet over
the stones; for my former guides had lost my sandals, and this was
therefore for me, from the physical point of view, the hardest part of
my journey.

Even our camel seemed to be going to leave us in the lurch. He had got a
raw place on his off fore-foot, and had besides injured it so severely
with a pointed stone that the unfortunate beast could hardly walk on it.
I was obliged to sacrifice one of my hezamin, with which, by binding it
in quadruple fold, I made a kind of shoe for him, which had, however, to
be renewed every twenty-four hours. I had seen this done by camel-herds
in Darfur, though they use leather for the purpose, and the old
experience now stood me in good stead.

At last, on Saturday, the 16th of March, in the morning at sunrise,
descending from the heights, I saw the river Nile and the town of Assuan
along its shore. I cannot describe the feelings of joy which possessed
me. My woes were at an end; saved from the hands of fanatical
barbarians, my eyes beheld for the first time the dwellings of
civilised people, in a country governed with law and justice by its
ruler. My heart went out to my Creator in thankfulness for His
protection and His guiding hand.

I was received in the most friendly manner at their quarters by the
English officers in His Highness the Khedive's service, and the Egyptian
officers, who only just then learned the surprising news of my arrival;
and each vied with the other to do all that was in his power to help me
to forget the miseries I had gone through.

The commanding officer and Governor of the frontier, who happened to
have arrived almost at the same moment in Assuan, Colonel Hunter Pasha,
as well as his officers, Majors Jackson, Sidney, and Machell Bey, with
Bimbashi Watson, and others whose names I cannot at this moment call to
mind, generously placed their wardrobes at my disposal; and I availed
myself of their kindness for what was strictly indispensable. Before,
however, I changed my clothes, my excellent friend Watson, who is a
capital artist, asked leave to make a sketch of me, a request to which I
was delighted to accede.

As to my guide, Hamed Garhosh, with the assistance of a former
acquaintance, Butros Bey Serkis, who is now British Vice-Consul in
Assuan, I at once paid him the one hundred and twenty Maria Theresa
dollars. He also received from me a present of money, clothes, and arms,
while over and above this Hunter Pasha presented him with a gift of £10
as a token of joy at my safe arrival; and so, having suddenly become a
"man of means," he took a touching farewell of me and departed.

A short time afterwards, telegrams of congratulation arrived. The first
was from Major Lewis Bey on behalf of himself and the garrison of Wadi
Halfa. The second, from the chief of the Austrian Diplomatic Agency in
Egypt, Baron Heidler von Egeregg, who has been so indefatigable on my
behalf. Then from my devoted friend, Major Wingate Bey. Baron Victor
Herring and his sons, who were travelling on the Nile, were the first of
my own countrymen to greet me.

[Illustration: A Camel Corps Scout, Wadi Halfa.]

As it happened that the postal steamer was starting that afternoon, I
was recommended to avail myself of it to continue my journey. Escorted
by all the officers, to the tune of the Austrian national hymn (played
by the band of the Sudanese battalion), which it brought the tears into
my eyes to hear, I went on board the steamer, amid the hurrahs of a
number of tourists of all nations assembled on the bank.

I was deeply moved. Though I have ever tried to live up to my standard
of honour in whatever circumstances I have been placed, which, indeed,
any officer in a similar position would surely do, I had done nothing to
prepare me for, still less to deserve, this public expression of
sympathy, and it made me feel very humble.

I travelled in company with Machell Bey, who commands the Twelfth
Sudanese Battalion, and whose march during the manoeuvres from Wadi
Halfa by Murrat to Korosko had been the cause of my provisions being
eaten up, and of the short commons I had to put up with in the desert. I
took a terrible vengeance. He had to submit unconditionally to all my
whims in food and drink, and endured his martyrdom with extraordinary
good-nature and soldierly fortitude.

When I arrived on Sunday evening in Luxor, I was again the object of a
lively demonstration of sympathy from the European travellers, and here
received, through Baron Heidler, a telegram from my dear sisters, and
from my native city of Vienna. Sisters and native city! How sweet the
words sound!

On Monday, at five in the afternoon, we reached Girga, the southernmost
station on the Egyptian State railway, and proceeded to Cairo, which I
reached at six in the morning, on Tuesday, the 19th of March. In spite
of this early hour, Baron Heidler von Egeregg, with his staff, and the
Austrian Consul, Dr. Carl Ritter von Goracuchi, had come to the station
to meet me; and there, too, was my dear friend Wingate Bey, to whom I
can never sufficiently show my gratitude in word or deed. The "Times"
correspondent was also there; and Father Rosignoli, with a number of
others, and, of course, a photographer taking snap-shots.

We drove to the Austrian diplomatic agency, where I was for a long time
the guest of the warm-hearted Baron Heidler, who had worked so hard for
my freedom, and whose actions were prompted, not only by a desire to do
his duty as a representative of the Government, but who was actuated by
a deep sympathy for the sufferings of a fellow-creature held down in
miserable bondage.

On arrival, I found my rooms adorned with the flags of my dear
fatherland, and decked with roses and flowers, whilst above the door was
written, "A hearty welcome home." On the same day, I received telegrams
of congratulations from my family, friends, fellow-students, and from
several newspapers. I also met with a hearty welcome from His Royal
Highness, Duke Wilhelm of Würtemberg, and His Serene Highness, General
Prince Louis Esterhazy, both of whom had been in the Bosnian campaign
when I had served there with my regiment, and who greatly honoured me by
their expressions of genuine sympathy with me in the hardships I had
undergone, and in the joy I now experienced at having escaped at last
from the tyrannical thraldom of the Khalifa. I was received in audience,
soon after my arrival, by His Highness the Khedive of Egypt, who
conferred upon me the title of Pasha. I had entered the Sudan sixteen
years before as a first lieutenant of the Austrian army, and, whilst
Governor of Darfur, had been granted the Egyptian military grade of
lieutenant-colonel, and now, on my return, I was promoted to the rank of
colonel, and posted to the Egyptian Intelligence Department.

A few days after my arrival, when seated on the balcony of the Agency,
and looking down on the garden all fresh with the verdure of spring, I
espied a tame heron stalking across the flower-beds. Instantly I thought
of Falz-Fein of Ascania Nova, in Tauride, South Russia, and I hurried to
my room, and then and there wrote to him a full account of the crane
which he had released in 1892, and which had been killed in Dar Shaigia.
It was the greatest pleasure to feel myself in a position to give the
former owner of the bird an accurate account of what had happened; and,
soon afterwards, I received a reply from Mr. Falz-Fein, who possesses a
large estate in the Crimea, thanking me warmly for my letter, and
inviting me to pay him a visit, which, unfortunately, the numerous calls
on my time have hitherto prevented me from accepting.

A series of official and private calls, numerous invitations, and other
social duties so occupied my time that some weeks elapsed before I could
undertake any serious work. My first duty was, of course, to submit a
detailed official report to my military superiors; and it was not till
some time later, that I began to describe the story of my life during
the last sixteen years.

My old friend and comrade in captivity, Father Ohrwalder, who is now a
missionary at Suakin, took an early opportunity of coming to Cairo to
welcome me. Our meeting was indeed a happy one, and I rejoiced to be
able to thank him personally for all the assistance he had given in
arranging for my escape.

The contrast between my past and present life, the influence of fresh
impressions, the many changes I see around me, sometimes make my head
feel heavy,--heavy, as though I had just woke up from an evil
dream,--twelve years' captivity, a long dream indeed!

It was long before my excitement subsided, but gradually I began to
settle down and collect my thoughts. Now again in the midst of civilised
society, once more a man among men, my thoughts often turn back to the
fanatical barbarians with whom I had to live so long, to my perils and
sufferings amongst them, to my unfortunate companions still in
captivity, and to the enslaved nations of those remote territories. My
thanks are due to God, whose protecting hand has led me safely through
all the dangers behind me.




CHAPTER XX.

CONCLUSION.


    Africa, Past and Present--The Sudan, Past and Present--Rise,
    Progress, and Wane of Mahdism--How long will it last?--The
    Khalifa's Present Position--European Encroachment--"Whites" in
    the Bahr et Ghazal--Important Strategical Position of the
    Province--Time and Tide wait for no Man--I recover my Long-lost
    Sword--A Last Word.


After more than sixteen years in Africa, including twelve years of
captivity, during which I was cut off from all communication with the
civilised world, I have at length had the good fortune to return to
Europe. How Africa has changed within this period! Regions in the
exploration of which Livingstone, Speke, Grant, Baker, Stanley, Cameron,
Brazza, Junker, Schweinfurth, Holub, Lenz, and hundreds of others risked
their lives, are now accessible to civilisation. In most of these, in
which the explorer had formerly to encounter the greatest dangers, there
are now military posts and stations to afford security and facilitate
the trade which is constantly becoming more active. From the east,
Italy, England, Germany, from the west, the Congo State, France, and
England, are daily enlarging their spheres of influence, and are now on
the point of joining hands in Central Africa. Wild tribes, who in their
modes of life are nearer to beast than to man, are beginning to know new
wants, beginning to understand that there are beings mentally superior
to themselves, and who, through the appliances of modern civilisation,
are unconquerable even in foreign lands. The more northerly of the still
independent Mohammedan States--Wadai, Bornu, and the Fellata
Kingdoms--will doubtless sooner or later be compelled to conclude
alliances with some of the advancing powers, perceiving that only in
this way their hereditary rule can be secured.

In the middle of Africa, between the lands just mentioned and the powers
advancing from east, south, and west, lies the former Egyptian Sudan,
now under the rule of the Khalifa Abdullahi, the despotic head of the
Mahdists. No European can venture to cross the limits of this land, cut
off from civilisation, extending in the south along the Nile to Reggaf,
and east to west from Kassala to near Wadai; death, or lifelong
captivity, would be his lot. Yet it is only within the short period of
ten years that the land has been subjected to these miserable
conditions. For more than seventy years, since the time of Mohammed Ali,
it remained under the rule of Egypt, and was open to civilisation. In
the chief towns were found Egyptian and European merchants. In Khartum
itself, the foreign powers had their representatives. Travellers of all
nations could pass through the land unharmed, and found protection and
help through their aid. Telegraphs and a regular postal service
facilitated intercourse with the most distant countries. Mohammedan
mosques, Christian churches, and mission schools looked after the
religious and moral education of the young. The land was inhabited by
the most diverse tribes, many of which lived in hostility with one
another, but were compelled by the strength of the Government to keep
the peace.

Discontent, no doubt, prevailed in the land; and in the preceding pages
I have shown how the avarice and misgovernment of the officials brought
about a condition of affairs which rendered the country ripe for revolt.
I have endeavoured to explain how Mohammed Ahmed took advantage of the
mood of the people, and, well knowing that only a religious factor could
unite the hostile tribes, he maintained that he was the Mahdi sent by
God to deliver the country from foreign yoke, and to regenerate
religion, thus bringing into existence that element of fanaticism which
throws such a lurid glow over those dark episodes with which the
history of the past twelve years of the Sudan has been so replete.
Without fanaticism, the revolt could never have been successful, while
with it one is brought face to face with a condition of warfare and
religious enthusiasm, to find a parallel to which one must go back to
mediæval history and even further.

In the preceding account of my life and adventures, in the vortex itself
of this mighty religious movement, I have endeavoured to briefly trace,
step by step, the principal causes which have led to the present
situation,--changed greatly, it is true, from the time in which the
Mahdi and his successor were in the zenith of their power, but
nevertheless a situation requiring careful handling and a thorough
knowledge of details, in order that those concerned may be enabled to
grasp accurately the conditions necessary to restore to civilisation
this vast expanse of country which has now fallen into an almost
indescribable state of moral and religious decadence.

In the Sudan, we have before us a terrible example of a nascent and
somewhat crude civilisation suddenly shattered by wild, ignorant, and
almost savage tribes who have built over the scattered remnants a form
of government based, to some extent, on the lines they found existing,
but from which they have eradicated almost every symbol of right,
justice, and morality, and for which they have substituted a rule of
injustice, ruthless barbarity, and immorality. Nor can I recall any
other instance in modern times of a country in which a semblance of
civilisation has existed for upwards of half a century, falling back
into a state so little removed from absolute barbarism.

But let us consider for a moment what is this new power which has
suddenly grown up, and which seems to the European world to block so
completely all their civilising efforts, which have during recent years
made such startling strides in almost every other part of the vast
continent of Africa.

I have endeavoured to show how, on the Mahdi's first rise to power, the
entire country was with him heart and soul. How, on his death, real
fanaticism gradually waned, and gave place to a temporary power wielded,
under the cloak of religion, with reckless severity by the Khalifa and
his western Arabs, who, taking the place of the Egyptian garrisons they
had destroyed, ruled the unfortunate populations with a rod of iron, and
with such oppression and tyranny as to make them long for a return to
any form of government which would give them rest and peace. It is
needless for me to recapitulate the horrors and cruelties which have
been enacted by the Khalifa and his followers in order to maintain their
position of ascendancy; but it will be sufficient for my purpose to
recall here that at least seventy-five per cent of the total population
has succumbed to war, famine, and disease, while of the remainder the
majority are little better than slaves; and that terrible scourge, the
slave-trade with all its attendant horrors, is rampant in the land, and
includes amongst its victims numbers of Abyssinian Christians, Syrians,
Copts, and Egyptians.

The extent of country now governed by the Khalifa is little altered, it
is true, from that occupied originally by the Egyptian Government, but
with what a difference! Prosperous districts with a teeming population
have been reduced to desert wastes. The great plains over which the
western Arabs roamed are deserted, and their places taken by wild
animals, while the homesteads of the Nile dwellers are now occupied by
those nomad tribes who have driven out the rightful owners of the soil,
or enslaved them to till the land for the benefit of their new masters.
Deprived of the means of self-defence, reduced by oppression and tyranny
to a condition of hopelessness of relief from their foreign
task-masters, their powers of resistance crippled, the comparatively
small river populations which are left are little better than slaves.
What can they do of themselves against their despotic rulers? It is
folly to imagine that the country can right itself by internal revolt.
The helping hand must come from without; and the local populations must
realise that the first step to re-establish Government authority having
been taken, there will be no drawing back. They must be convinced that
the Khalifa's power is doomed, and that the bright era of civilisation
is assuredly returning. Then, and not till then, will they heartily
throw in their lot with the advancing forces, and lend their aid in
breaking down the power of the now waning Mahdist Empire. Let it not,
however, be supposed that, although I describe this power as declining,
it is likely of itself to become extinct within a comparatively short
period. A careful perusal of the last few chapters will, I think, make
it clear to all that the means taken by the Khalifa to render his
position secure against his internal enemies has been most thoroughly
effective, and, assuming that his authority is not threatened by
external influences, I see no cause why, as long as he is alive, he
should not maintain his ascendancy. With his death, it is more than
probable some internal revulsion will take place, which might, under
certain circumstances, displace the dynasty he has attempted to found,
but which would not necessarily bring that unfortunate country much
nearer to civilising influences than it is at present. Considered,
therefore, from this point of view, the necessary palliative still lies
in the introduction of external aid.

The above hypothesis does not, however, entirely meet the conditions of
the case. Those who wish to study the present situation in the Sudan
must not think of that country as it was in the days of Ismail Pasha,
when the civilising influence was represented by the Egyptian
Government, and when the various countries lying immediately beyond the
Egyptian sphere were barbarous or Pagan states, in which Europeans were
almost unknown, and the Arab slave-hunter had barely penetrated; that
condition has been little else than reversed. The Mahdist authority, as
I have already shown, is at once intolerably obstructive and dangerously
insecure. The once comparatively civilised Sudan is now occupied by a
barbaric power hostile to both European and Ottoman influence. It
blocks the way from the central plateaus along the Nile valley to the
Mediterranean; it seals up districts which were at one time fairly
tranquil, and open to the influences of commerce and civilisation, while
the various countries by which it is bordered are now being gradually
opened up. Intercourse between them and the outside world is becoming
easier; trade is pushing obstacles out of the way; risk to life is
lessened by the protective action of European governments; and the
savage races by which they are peopled, are beginning to learn the folly
of fighting against the resources of civilisation.

To turn from generalisation to details, what do we find to be the
present situation? On the east, Egyptian influence is slowly--very
slowly--recovering its lost ground in the vicinity of Suakin and Tokar.
To the southeast, the Italians have captured Kassala, and have forced
the Mahdists to take up a strong line of defence on the west bank of the
Atbara River. Further south, the Abyssinians show no present intention
of altering the relations which have previously existed between them and
the Dervishes. In the mountainous districts of Fazoglu and the Blue
Nile, the inhabitants have thrown off allegiance to the Khalifa. Far
away to the south, at the sources of the Nile, British influence is
beginning to make itself felt in those regions where Speke, Grant,
Baker, and others gained imperishable renown by their magnificent
explorations, and by their efforts against slavery and the
slave-trade,--regions which will ere long be connected with the coast by
a railway which will open up not only the country it traverses, but will
also give an exit to the trade of Southern Equatoria and the adjacent
countries. Next to these British possessions comes the Congo Free State,
which within the last few years has made such gigantic strides in
bringing under its influence large tracts of country, not only in the
vicinity of the Mbomu and Ubangi, but in many districts of the Bahr el
Ghazal Province and in Equatoria, almost to within striking distance of
the Dervish advanced post at Reggaf in the Nile valley, while behind
them, in the Haute Ubangi, or even in juxtaposition with them, the
enterprising French pioneers are striving to give effect to their
colonial dreams, which have of late years been so fully realised in
various parts of Africa. Still further to the northwest, the Khalifa's
authority in those districts is menaced by hostile tribesmen who may,
sooner or later, become subject to the guidance of European influence
penetrating from the west and north of Africa; and, on the extreme
north, lies the Egyptian power, which Abdullahi is gradually learning to
dread, as being that most likely to be the first to interfere with the
uncertain tenure of his empire.

Such, then, is briefly the present defensive and offensive position of
the Mahdist Sudan. All-powerful within his dominions, but threatened
from all sides from without, there is little doubt that before the
onward march of civilising forces the whole empire of the Khalifa must
crumble and collapse,--and what then? Will Egypt once more become the
actual possessor of the country of which she was the legitimate owner?
Will all those civilising powers who are marching forward unselfishly
realise that should they establish themselves on the banks of the
navigable Nile, they must not attempt to cut off or minimise the
life-giving water supply of Egypt by introducing skilled irrigation
within the territories they may have acquired? Will they unselfishly
abandon the advantages which they may have secured through the
expenditure of blood and treasure, in order that the legitimate rights
of Egypt may not be interfered with? All these questions enter into the
domain of practical and current politics, with which it is not my
province to deal. I am merely in the position of expressing my views on
the importance and value of the Sudan to Egypt; and on this subject I
hold a strong opinion. The reasons which first prompted Mohammed Ali,
three quarters of a century ago, to take possession of the Sudan, still
hold good. As the Nile is the life of Egypt, so every effort must be
made to preserve the Nile valley from intrusion. Any advance,
therefore, of civilising influences towards that gigantic waterway must
naturally be viewed with alarm by those authorities who are fully alive
to the danger which would arise by the creation, on the banks of the
river, of colonies whose personal interests would predominate over their
regard for the preservation and advancement of Egyptian welfare and
prosperity.

Here and there, in the preceding pages, I have referred to the immense
importance of the Bahr el Ghazal; and it is perhaps not out of place
here to recapitulate once again the peculiar position which this
province holds in regard to the remainder of the Sudan. It is a most
fertile district, extending over an enormous area, watered by a
labyrinth of streams, and covered with mountains and forests in which
elephants abound, while the low valleys are subject to inundations. The
soil is exceptionally good, producing quantities of cotton and
India-rubber. There are cattle in abundance; and I estimate the
population at between five and six millions. They are capable of making
excellent soldiers. Moreover, the continual feuds between the various
tribes prevent any combination of the inhabitants as a whole; hence the
ease with which foreigners can obtain an ascendancy in the province, and
create an efficient local army.

The port of the Bahr el Ghazal was Meshra er Rek. To this place steamers
periodically ascended from Khartum, but were often stopped by the
floating vegetation which from time to time blocks the passage of the
Upper Nile. Just south of Fashoda, the river emerges from what may have
been the bed of an ancient lake. Into this wide marsh trickle a great
number of winding streams which are often completely blocked by the
suds; and through these dense barriers travellers must at times cut
their way with swords and axes. Sir Samuel Baker's expedition,
1870-1874, was delayed a year from this cause.

The geographical and strategical position of the province, therefore,
with reference to the rest of the Sudan, renders its possession of the
greatest importance. The presence of foreigners, unconcerned in the
preservation of Egyptian interests, having at their command the vast
resources of this great country, which are estimated at a much higher
value in both men and materials than those of any portion of the Nile
valley, would place them in such a predominating position as to endanger
any occupation by Egypt of her lost provinces.

In the preceding pages, I have described all I know of the movements of
Europeans in these districts; and it is possible an attempt in force on
their part to reach the Nile _via_ Meshra er Rek, or the Bahr el Homr,
or Bahr el Arab, might meet with some opposition from the Mahdists, but
if well-conducted it would, in all probability, result in their losing
their province.

If, therefore, the Khalifa were to learn that the "Whites" in the Bahr
el Ghazal were in greater force than his present information leads him
to suppose, he might engage in a campaign against them; and in this case
he would be obliged to send reinforcements from Omdurman,--a matter of
some difficulty, as the drain on his resources caused by the maintenance
of large forces at the threatened points on the Atbara opposite Kassala,
and in the Dongola province, is considerable.

Reverting to the Dervish situation in Darfur and Kordofan, it should be
noted that the present force of the Emir Mahmud amounts to some
thousands of rifle and spear men, scattered in garrisons at El Fasher,
Shakka, and El Obeid. Mahmud himself resides at El Fasher with the bulk
of this force, and is constantly at war with the Dar Gimr, Massalit,
Tama, Beni Hussein, Hotir, and other tribes of the Kebkebia and Kulkul
districts. Recently, one of Mahmud's lieutenants, Fadlalla, was killed,
and his force of six hundred men heavily defeated in a contest with
these revolted tribes; and, just at the time I left Omdurman, permission
had been given to Mahmud to send out a punitive expedition from El
Fasher, which appears to have been partially successful. These tribes,
although nominally independent, owe a certain allegiance to the Wadai
Sultanate. It is, therefore, erroneous to suppose that they are acting
under the direction of Rabeh Zubeir, whose hostility to Wadai is well
known, and whose authority does not extend so far to the east, and now
appears to be centred in the districts lying south and southwest of Lake
Tchad.

Such, then, was the state of affairs in these southern and western
districts when I left the Sudan; and, since my arrival in the midst of
civilisation, I have frequently seen many strange and conflicting
reports in the press as to the situation in these distant regions, and
although concurring with the view that the onward march of civilising
forces must eventually cause the collapse of the Mahdist Empire, I feel
that my unique position in the centre of Dervish authority entitles me
to give a word of warning to the country whose interests I endeavoured
for long years to uphold, and whose eventual welfare and prosperity, in
a recovered Egyptian Sudan, I earnestly long to see. I would merely
impress upon her the fact that time and tide wait for no man; that
whilst she is contemplating with longing eyes the recovery of her lost
provinces, there is always the possibility that they may fall into the
hands of others who may prove more difficult to dislodge than the
Khalifa, and who, by bringing engineering skill on the life-giving
waters of Egypt, may endanger its very existence, and who would--though
it is undoubtedly the lesser of two evils--deprive that country of the
rich blessings of trade and commerce which, under a beneficent
administration in the Sudan, would give wealth and prosperity both to
the parent Egypt and her recovered Nile provinces.

With these few words of friendly advice to the country to whose services
I rejoice to have returned after twelve long years of captivity, I now
end this narrative. But ere I close, I will relate yet one more incident
which, were I superstitious, I would consider presaged well for the
recovery of what has been lost. In December, 1883, when force of
circumstances obliged me to surrender to the Mahdi, the sword of
Austrian pattern which I had received on entering the Austrian army, and
on which I had had my name engraved in Arabic characters, was taken from
me. In August, 1895, when I came to London to attend the Geographical
Congress, it was returned to me by Mr. John Cook, Sen., of the firm of
Thomas Cook & Son, at his office in Ludgate Circus. It appears that Mr.
John Cook had, in 1890, purchased this sword from a native of Luxor, on
the banks of the Nile, his attention having been attracted by the Arabic
inscription on the blade, from which my friend, Major Wingate, whom he
met shortly afterwards, was able to decipher my name. It is, I think,
likely the Mahdi had presented my sword to one of his followers who had
taken part in the invasion of Egypt by Nejumi, in 1889; and when that
redoubtable Emir was overthrown by General Sir Francis Grenfell on the
field of Toski, it is probable that the wearer of my sword fell too, and
the long-lost weapon was taken from the field by a villager, from whom
Mr. Cook purchased it. To have lost my much-prized first sword in the
wilds of Darfur, and to find it again in the heart of London, is almost
more than a coincidence.

During the last sixteen years, I have led a life of strange
vicissitudes; and I have endeavoured to narrate as simply as I could my
unique experiences, in the hope that my story may not only prove of
interest to those who have shown sympathy with the hard fate of the
European captives in the Sudan, but with the most earnest desire that
these my experiences may prove of some value when the time for action
may arise, and when, if God wills, my services may be utilised in
helping to abolish the rule of my tyrannical master and lifelong enemy,
the Khalifa Abdullahi, and re-establish in that country the Government
authority I struggled with some measure of success, but alas vainly, to
uphold.

[Illustration: KHARTUM AND OMDURMAN
Edward Arnold; London & New York
STANDFORD'S GEOG^{L} ESTAB^{T}, LONDON

MAP SHOWING EXTENT OF MAHDIST INFLUENCE IN 1895.
Edward Arnold; London & New York
STANDFORD'S GEOG^{L} ESTAB^{T}, LONDON]




INDEX.


    The following letters appended to names of persons signify: _A._
    Ashraf, descended from the Prophet; _C._ Commander; _D._ Danagla
    or Dongolawi; _E._ Emir; _G._ Governor; _J._ Jaalin; _K._ King;
    _Kfa._ Khalifa; _M._ Mahdi; _P._ Pasha; _S._ Sultan; _Sh._
    Sheikh.


    Abakr, S., Begu, 149, 157, 190, 225 251, 261.

    Abba, Island of, Mahdi's home, 123, 126, 136.

    Abd el Kader, Mahdi's uncle, 286;
      _P._, _G._ Gen. Sudan, 147;
      his advice, 232.

    Abderrahman, _K._ Darfur, 43;
      and Napoleon, 44;
      Abderrahman ben Naga's warning, 286.

    Abdul Kerim, Mahdi's cousin, 286;
      to Sennar, 380, 383.

    Abdullahi bin Sayd Mohammed, Khalifa el Mahdi, _W. Arab_,
      early history, 127, 514;
      proclaimed Khalifa, 281;
      appearance, 285;
      commands "blue flag," 303;
      succeeds Mahdi, 370;
      coinage, 407;
      "signs and commands," 409;
      tyranny, 429;
      seizes Nile boats, 431;
      Mahdi's Dome, 432;
      Dr. Wahrmund's letter, 447;
      brethren arrive, 449;
      writes to Queen, etc., 450;
      illness, 496;
      fortifies Atbara, 507;
      fiendish character, 516;
      harem, 520;
      postal service, 527;
      how he rides abroad, 528;
      reviews, 530;
      present army, etc., 535;
      frontiers, 537;
      treasuries, 538;
      timidity, 562;
      house at Omdurman, 567;
      his "blackholes," 571.

    Abdullahi Dudbenga, Harun's cousin, _S._, 85, 211, 377.

    Abdullahi om Dramo, _Sh._ Messeria, 192;
      joins Madibbo, 251.

    Abo Bey, _C._ Toweisha, disloyal, 204;
      moves on Dara, 249.

    Abu Anga, _E._ of Blacks, 174;
      befriends Slatin, 329;
      reduces Kordofan, 355, 397;
      marches to Omdurman, 422;
      beats Abyssinians, 426;
      dies much lamented, 426.

    Abu es Saud, attacks Abba, 136.

    Abu "Falja" (Mahdi), 289.

    Abu Gemmaisa, his rebellion, 442.

    Abu Girga, _D. E._ Gezira, 283;
      besieges Khartum, 302;
      repulsed, 300;
      to Kassala, 405;
      joins Osman Digna, 433;
      at Kassala, 472;
      sent to Reggaf, 496.

    Abyssinians take Gallabat, 404;
      beaten by Abu Anga, 426;
      King John's death, 439.

    Adam Amer, _C._ El Fasher, 203.

    Adlan, Ibrahim, in charge of Beit el Mal, 382, 407;
      his new offices, 408;
      hung, 463.

    Afifi Wad Ahmed, _Sh._ Habbania, 158;
      killed, 207.

    Agordat, battle of, 502.

    Ahmed ed Dalia, executioner, 240, 430, 447.

    Ahmed el Makur, _K._ Darfur, 41.

    Ahmed Fedil, Khalifa's cousin, commands Blacks, 480;
      to Gedarif, 503.

    Ahmed Katong, lame Arab, 68.

    Ahmed Wad Ali, at Kassala, 433;
      _E._, 472;
      comes to Omdurman, 495;
      back to Gallabat, 496, 500;
      routed by Italians, and killed, 502.

    Ahmed Wad Ali, "Kadi el Islam," 231;
      with Khalifa, 286, 505;
      starved, 575.

    Ahmed Wad Suleiman, _E._ Beit el Mal, 177, 231;
      with Khalifa, 286;
      discharged, 381, 480;
      condemned, 485.

    Ala ed Din, _P._, _G._ Gen. Sudan, 3.

    Ali Bey Sherif, _G._ Kordofan, 7;
      _G._ Darfur, 88;
      at El Fasher, 96;
      Slatin succeeds, 103, 108;
      submissive, 383, 406.

    Ansar, "helpers," 141, 309.

    Arab clothes, 114;
      courage, 146, 154, 159, 208, 223, 414, 447;
      customs, 114;
      food, 34, 114;
      greed of gain, 20;
      oath of fealty, 120;
      tactics, 52, 196, 198;
      treachery, 240.

    Arabs, _Baggara_, 29, 46;
      _Batahin_, 446;
      _Bedeyat_, 107, 117;
      _Beni Helba_, 45;
      country, 71, 205, 218;
      revolt, 218;
      chastised, 222;
      _Ereikat_, 45;
      _Gehéna_, 146;
      destroyed, 423;
      _Gimeh_, transported, 386;
      _Gowama_, 230, 427;
      _Habbania_, join Suleiman, 17;
      against him, 26;
      rise, 148;
      _Hawazma_, 19, 146;
      _Homr_, 19;
      _Kababish_, plundered, 402;
      _Khawabir_, restless, 58, 205;
      _Maalia_, rise, 148, 154, 155, 182;
      _Maheria_, 46;
        rise, 244;
      _Massalit_, 110;
      _Mima_, restless, 58, 84, 205, 209, 248;
      _Misseria_, 19, 182, 218;
      _Rizighat_, 19;
        from Ruzeik, 45;
        independence of, 45;
        rise, 148;
        decimated and divided, 46;
        join Suleiman, 17;
        against him, 26;
        rise, 148, 427;
      _Shaigi_, loyal, 146;
        to Khartum, 302;
      _Tago_, 182, 218;
      _Taaisha_, 29, 438;
        masters, 563;
      _Zaghawa_, 113, 182;
      _Zayedia_, 244.

    Arabs, animosity between E. and W. tribes, 129, 381, 476.

    Arifi Wad Ahmed, _Sh._ Habbania, 22.

    Artin, Armenian watchmaker, 578.

    Ashraf, 478;
      starved and beaten to death, 485;
      property confiscated, 486, 494.

    Atbara River, 625.


    Babakr Abu Sebiba, 581.

    Bahr el Ghazal, subject to Darfur, 47;
      Black population, 13, 194;
      recruiting ground, 509;
      penetrated by Congo State, 510;
      its importance to Egypt, 626.

    Bairam, 317, 422, 529;
      trooping colours at, 529.

    Bara, captured by Mahdi, 174.

    Barnu, Ismail Wad, 22, 149, 251, 261.

    Batahin, execution of, 446.

    Bazingers, 7.

    Bee-keeping in Sudan, 77.

    Begu, tribe of Bahr el Ghazal, 44;
      _S._, 190.

    Beit el Mal, 231, 241, 431, 538.

    Berber, fall of, 290.

    Beresford, Lord Charles, 352.

    Beshari Bey, 218, 223.

    Black babies, 78.


    Calamatino, George, Gordon's messenger, 304, 321, 333.

    Camel besieged by Waganda, 87;
      runaway, 98.

    Caravan road re-opened, 107.

    Coinage, 541.

    Comboni, R. C. Bishop, 101.

    Congo State, flags, 508;
      treaties, 510.

    Corruption, 104.

    Crane, Russian in Dongola, 498.


    Dafalla, Ahmed Bey, 97;
      at El Obeid, 145;
      surrenders, 176;
      interviews Mahdi, 179;
      killed, 230.

    Dafalla, Arabi, in Dongola, 476;
      to Reggaf, 500;
      defeats Fadl el Maula, 507.

    Dali, _S._, 41.

    Dali, Kitab, or penal code, 41.

    Danagla, descendants of slave Dangal, 13.

    Dara, capital of S. Darfur, 62;
      the Doctor of, 69.

    Darfur, kingdom of, once reached Atbara, 37;
      Egyptians conquer, 56;
      _S._ in revolt, 218.

    Darho, Omar Wad, _C._ Shaigia, 58;
      arbitrator, 96;
      accused by Zogal, 102, 108;
      disloyal, 149;
      chastises Arabs, 151, 205;
      back to El Fasher, 207;
      joins Zogal, 268;
      attacks Jebel Marra, 377;
      revolts against Khalifa, 378;
      shot by Zogal, 379.

    Deain, Madibbo's village, 93, 183.

    Delen, R. C. Mission Station, 173.

    Dinkas, 470.

    Divorce, oath of, 222.

    Dongola, 303.

    Donkey postman, 251.

    Duem, on White Nile, 234.


    Ebtar Idris Bey, _D._ Zubeir's agent, 13;
      accuses Suleiman at Khartum, 14;
      _G._ Bahr el Ghazal, 14.

    Ebtar, Osman, Idris' brother, killed at Ganda, 16.

    Egeil Wad el Jangawi, Madibbo's enemy, 93.

    El Fasher, capital of Darfur, 37;
      taken by Zubeir, 55;
      besieged by Harun, 57;
      Slatin at, 58;
      taken by Zogal, 270.

    El Koreishi, _Sh._, 359, 362.

    El Obeid, siege of, 173;
      starved out, 176;
      mutiny at, 393.

    Elias Pasha, _G._ Gen. Kordofan, 133, 142;
      invites Mahdi to El Obeid, 144;
      at Duem, 237.

    Emiliani dei Danziger, of Kobbé, 108;
      Mudir of Dara, 109;
      dies, 120.

    Emin Bey, 2.

    Esh Sheikh's advice, 359, 362.

    Evil Eye, the, 519.


    Fadlalla, Ali Wad, arrested, 93, 191;
      his grave rifled, 183.

    Fadl el Maula, _C._ of _all_ Blacks, 384.

    Fadl el Maula Bekhit, mutinies, 393.

    Famine, 453, _et seq._

    Farag, Mohammed Effendi, 211, 213.

    Faragalla, _P._ defends Omdurman Fort, 337.

    Farquhar, Col., 236;
      his note-book, 241.

    Fayo, native radish, 198.

    Fealty, Arab oath of, 120.

    Felkin, Dr. R. W., at Dara, 85.

    Fiki Mohammed el Heliki, 50.

    French and English, 310.

    Fungs, 37, 68.

    Furs, 37;
      only stopped by Nile, 41;
      Niurnia, 75.


    Gabralla, 55, 68;
      slave-dealer, 217.

    Gallabat, destroyed by Abyssinians, 404;
      almost taken again, 440.

    Gellabas (_J._ and _D._), traders from Nile, 60;
      Gordon's order ruins, 20, 30;
      claims of, 92, 169;
      revenge on Gordon, 280.

    Gessi, Romolo, and Shellali attack Suleiman, 16;
      sick at Khartum, 101;
      dies at Suez, 102.

    Gezira, Island (_J._ and _D._), between Blue and White Niles,
        espouse Mahdi's cause, 132, 232.

    Ghanima, "plunder," 265 note, 377, 431, 442;
      granary of Khartum, 403.

    Giegler Pasha, 3, 5, 139, 146, 228.

    Gilif mountains, 595.

    Gordon, his kindness, 35, 60, 61;
      coolness, 60;
      meets Suleiman, 10;
      succeeds Ismail Pasha, 57;
      marched out of Abyssinia, 89;
      leaves Sudan, 91;
      returns, 280;
      popular with W. Arabs, 298;
      his letter, 334;
      despatches and awaits steamers, 337, 341;
      his death, 343.

    Gowl, Bir, hot spring, 64, 72.

    Gretli, Mohammed el, 253, 256.

    Gsiller, Herr Von, Egyptian consul, 579.

    Guma, Ali Agha, conducts retreat, 166;
      goes to Mima country, 207.

    Guma, Mohammed, lets Mahdi escape, 138.

    Guma, Said Bey, 59, 104;
      _C._ El Fasher, 121, 244, 267;
      defends El Fasher, 270;
      with Mahdi, 289.

    Guru, village, 224.


    Hamada Effendi, tortured, 271.

    Hamed Wad All, Khalifa's cousin, _E._ Kassala, 472;
      commands Jaalin, 508, 534.

    Hansal, Austrian Consul, writes to Slatin, 325;
      killed at Khartum, 347.

    Harun, _S._ Darfur, heads a revolt, 57;
      at Niurnia, 58;
      threatening, 64;
      raids Dara, 80;
      pursued, 81;
      defeated, 83.

    Hasaballa, _Sh._ Maheria, 117, 120.

    Hashaba, _Sh._ Salama's village, 170;
      number of force collected at, 181.

    Hassan Bey om Kadok (Berti), and his brother Ismail, 34.

    Hassan Hussein, _E._ of Egyptians, 293.

    Hassan Wad Saad Nur, 100;
      joins Mahdi, 250, 266.

    Helmi, Hassan Pasha, 6;
      _G._ Darfur, 8, 56, 58.

    Helmi, Mansur Effendi, 22;
      accuses Suleiman, 28;
      sent to Shakka, 149;
      false, 153;
      at Murrai, 157;
      runs away, 165.

    Helu, Ali Wad, Degheim, _Kfa._, 138;
      commands "green flag," 304;
      sides with Khalifa, 383;
      well paid, 406;
      in Ashraf insurrection, 480, 482, 496.

    Helu, Musa Wad, to Metemmeh, 336;
      killed at Abu Klea, 338.

    Hicks Pasha, 233;
      his expedition a mistake, 234;
      cut to pieces at Shekan, 240.

    Home Rule in the Sudan, 297.

    Hussein, _P._ _G._ Shakka, 11.

    Hussein _Kfa._ Berber, at Mahdi's camp, 294.


    Ibrahim, _S._ last _K._ Darfur, 54;
      his tomb, 74;
      his sisters, 429.

    Ismail Pasha, 8;
      and Zubeir, 55;
      summoned to Egypt, 56.

    Iya, Basi Zemzem, "eldest sister" of _S._ Darfur, 46.


    Jaalin, descended from Abbas the Prophet's uncle, 13;
      Zubeir's tribe, 9.

    Janghé, Baggara tribe transferred to Bahr el Ghazal, 95;
      revolt and join Maddibbo, 194.

    Japo, Mohammed Agha, 145;
      hoodwinks Mahdi, 174.

    Jebel Gedir, renamed "Masa," 144.

    Jebel Marra, centre of Darfur, 38.

    Jehad (holy war) proclaimed, 116, 138, 141;
      round Suakin, 233.

    Jehadia, _J._, 524.

    Jibba, the Mahdist dress, 231, 283, 285;
      the Mahdi's own, 289.


    Kabbashi, Mustem Wad, _Sh._, 60;
      at Om Waragat, 190;
      wounded, 249.

    Kalaka, headquarters of Habbania, 22.

    Kapsun, Fertit boy sent to England, 88.

    Karamalla, _D._, Mahdi's relative, _G._ Bahr el Ghazal, 275;
      at Shakka, 412;
      prefers Dara, 413;
      retires, 414.

    Kassala, besieged, 280;
      closely besieged, 380;
      surrenders, 385;
      captured by Italians, 504.

    Kebkebia, capital W. Darfur, 109.

    Kerraba, the, 604.

    Khadiga, Donkusa's sister, 113.

    Khadiga, Khalifa's daughter, married to Mahdi's son, 520.

    Khaled Wad Iman, sent to Kordofan, 57, 203;
      Zogal's agent, 245;
      writes to Madibbo, 245.

    Khartum, Gordon at, 285;
      invested by Gezira tribes (_J._), 295;
      famine, 337;
      fall of, 342;
      pillaged, 345.

    Kitab-Dali, or penal code, 41.

    Kitchener, Sir Herbert, 303 (note), 473.

    Klootz, Gustav, brought in, 238, 242;
      in chains, 314;
      died, 405.

    Kobbé, old capital of Darfur, 44, 108.

    Kordofan, taken and retaken, 37;
      in possession of Mahdi, 208.

    Koreina Nur, killed, 195.

    Kuku Agha, killed, 250.

    Kurd, Abu Sheikh, 44.


    Leontides, Gr. Consul, killed at Khartum, 347.

    Locusts, 457.

    Lupton Bey, _G._ Gen. Bahr el Ghazal, 193;
      capitulates, 275;
      arrives at Mahdi's camp, 326;
      in irons, 332;
      his wife and daughter, 354;
      hair white, 358;
      set free, 361;
      engineer, 401;
      dies, 437.


    Madibbo, _Sh._ Rizighat, 22, 95;
      discharged by Emiliani, 149;
      joins Mahdi, 156;
      attacks Deain, 158;
      stampeded, 163;
      wins Om Waragat, 186;
      beaten off, 197;
      challenged, 200;
      surprised, 247;
      attacks Dara, 250;
      explains, 263;
      Abu Anga's revenge on, 413.

    "Mahdi el Muntazer," 134.
      _See_ Mohammed Ahmed.

    Mahmud, Khalifa's relative, _E._ Darfur, returns to Dongola, 499;
      resides now at El Fasher, 628.

    Mahmud, Ali Said, Mahdi's relative, killed at Korti, 303.

    Marching order, 183.

    Marcopoli Bey, 95.

    Marissa, Sudan beer, 34.

    Marriage, in Sudan, 561;
      Gabralla's office for, 217;
      of Fadl Maula, 315;
      jars, 357;
      made easy, 373;
      divorce frequent, 561;
      abruptly dissolved, 31.

    Massawa, Italians at, 442.

    Mek Adam Um Daballo, 133;
      advises Mahdi to retire into interior, 139.

    Melek Hagger, 107.

    Melek Jusef, 146.

    Messallamia, 4, 125, 129.

    Messedaglia Bey, _G._ El Fasher, 37;
      plans attack on Harun, 74.

    Miracles, 143;
      comet, 174, 179;
      at Friday reviews, 304.

    Mohammed Ahmed (Mahdi), _A._ first news of, 111;
      his history, 122;
      quarrel with Sherif, 125;
      builds Koreishi's tomb, 129;
      secret tour in Kordofan, 132;
      proclaims himself Mahdi, 134;
      chooses three Khalifas, 138;
      first successes, 137-146;
      Jebel "Masa," 144;
      takes El Obeid, 176;
      works a miracle, 179;
      imitates Mohammed, 180;
      his sensuality, 231;
      master of Sudan, 242;
      at Rahad, 275;
      Friday reviews, 304;
      to Khartum, 305;
      his appearance, 289;
      death, 369;
      burial, 371;
      teaching, 373;
      Chronicles, 515;
      "instructions," 544.

    Mohammed el Fadl, _S._ Darfur, subdues Arabs, 45;
      his mosque, 62.

    Mohammed el Kheir, Mahdi's first teacher, 123;
      takes Berber, 303;
      awaits English at Metemmeh, 336;
      holds Dongola, 381;
      dead, 438.

    Mohammed et Taki, Khalifa's father, 127.

    Mohammed Hussein, _K._ Darfur, 46;
      his prophecy, 51.

    Mohammed Idris, 107.

    Mohammed Khaled. _See_ Zogal Bey.

    Mohammed Said Pasha, _G._ El Obeid, 96;
      misses Mahdi, 139, 145;
      lets Mahdi go again, 173;
      his treasure, 178;
      death, 230.

    Mohammed Sherif, _Kfa._ _See_ Sherif.

    Mohammed Terab, _K._ Darfur, stopped by Nile, 43.

    Mohammed Wad Asi, 203;
      brings news, 208.

    Morgan Hosan, faithful in death, 189.

    Mussaid Wad Gaidum, 405;
      in Dongola, 476;
      recalled, 477;
      Kassala, 496;
      loses Kassala, 505.

    Mustapha Bey Yawer, defends Dongola, 303.


    Nejumi, Abderrahman, with Zogal, 257;
      sent against Khartum, 301;
      takes Sennar, 382;
      to Dongola, 405;
      defeated and killed at Toski, 452.

    Neufeldt, Charles, 416;
      in prison, 572.

    Niurnia, capital of Tago princes, 58;
      Fur Sultans, 75.

    Nur Angara Bey, _G._ W. Darfur, 11;
      surprises Harun, 85;
      his history, 105;
      household, 110, 145;
      sent to Metemmeh, 338.


    O'Donovan, 237;
      his note-book, 241.

    Officers, six shot at Dara, 210.

    Ohrwalder, Father, 101;
      taken by Mahdi, 173;
      escapes in Ashraf insurrection, 483.

    Om Badr, 403.

    Ombeija, Sudan war-horn, 26, 51, 283, 292, 446, 504.

    Om Bilbil, 106, 111.

    Om Lawai, taken and destroyed, 209.

    Om Shanga, 151;
      fort evacuated, 207;
      surrender of, 256.

    Om Waragat, disaster at, 186.

    Omdurman, the sacred city of the Mahdi, 565;
      filth of, 570;
      fort besieged, 331;
      prison, 571;
      taken, 337.
      _See_ Map.

    Osman Digna, 233;
      fights Abyssinians, 385;
      at Tokar, 473;
      flies to Atbara, 474.

    Osman Sheikh ed Din, Khalifa's son, 140;
      married to Yakub's daughter, 519.

    Osman Wad Adam, Khalifa's cousin, to Kordofan, 386;
      at El Obeid, 399;
      _E._ Kordofan and Darfur, 416;
      to Shakka, 427, 444;
      dies, 475.

    Osman Wad Dekeim, to Berber, 438.

    Ostrich, hunting, 112;
      breeding stopped, 552;
      swiftness of, 154.


    Pain, Olivier (Frenchman), 306;
      taken ill and dies, 317.


    Rahad, 238;
      Mahdi at, 275;
      Slatin reaches, 283.

    Ramadan, 63, 106.

    Rashed Bey, _G._ Fashoda, and men annihilated, 140.

    Rations paid for, 66, 67, 201.

    Rauf Pasha, succeeds Gordon, 91;
      warned by Sherif, 135.

    Reggaf, 469;
      most southern post of Khalifa, 537.

    Rifki, Hassan Effendi, 63, 64, 76, 86;
      killed with Shellali, 141.

    Rott, Gottfried, at Dara, 182;
      taken ill and dies, 203.

    Rudolph, Crown Prince, news of death, 495.


    Saadalla, Nubawi, 365, 367, 466.

    Sahra, Khalifa's principal wife, 522.

    Said Hussein, _G._ Shakka, 11;
      arrested, 17.

    Said Mahmud, 395.

    Salama, Abu Mohammed Bey, _Sh._ Habbania, 155;
      deserts, 164;
      joins Madibbo, 201.

    Salama, brother of Om Dramo, his ride, 192;
      wounded, 226.

    Saleh Bey el Kabbashi, _Sh._ Kababish at Om Badr, 403;
      sends to Egypt, 416;
      caravan waylaid, 417;
      flies and is killed, 421.

    Saleh Donkusa and Zaghawa, 113, _et seq._, 376.

    Saleh Wad el Mek, 300;
      in Mahdi's suite, 305;
      his brother's head, 336;
      his sons, 348;
      discharged, 353.

    Seckendorff, Baron, 237, 240.

    Sennar, relieved, 146;
      again, 232;
      falls, 382.

    Sennusi, Mohammed es, _Sh._ of N. Africa, 138, 231.

    Shakka, battle at, 52;
      Slatin marches to, 183.

    Sharaf ed Din, 181, 184;
      his death, 188.

    Shekan, disaster at, 240.

    Shellali, Yusef Pasha esh, 6, 141;
      disaster, 143.

    Sherif, Mohammed, _Sh._, 123;
      warns Rauf, 135;
      joins Mahdi, 316.

    Sherif, Mohammed es, _Kfa._, 138;
      commands "red flag," 304;
      at storming of Khartum, 339, 383;
      loses his drums, 385;
      appeased, 386;
      revolts, 479;
      gets into trouble, 488.

    Shilluks, 470.

    Slatin Pasha goes to Egypt, 3;
      Mudir of Dara, 5;
      attacks Harun, 64;
      collects Suleiman's Bazingers, 91;
      _G._ General Darfur, 101;
      retires on Dara, 153;
      marches to Shakka, 183;
      turns Mohammedan, 216;
      _C._ Darfur, 245;
      surrenders Dara, 261;
      meets Khalifa, 285;
      swears fealty to Mahdi, 288;
      writes to Gordon and Consul Hansal, 320;
      in chains, 328;
      more chains, 334;
      more still, 352;
      free, 361;
      Darfurian wife, 365;
      offered wives, 367, 368, 389, 464;
      white jibba instead, 390;
      with Yunes, 390;
      suspected, 393;
      rides, 422;
      hears from home, 434, 447, 461;
      moves house, 493;
      meditates escape, 513;
      by whom aided, 579;
      fails, 584;
      succeeds, 591;
      recovers sword, 630.

    Slave market at Beit el Mal, 408, 472, 557;
      runaway slaves, 564.

    Slave trade, 47, 97, 107, 134, 140;
      Rott and, 182, 194.

    Small-pox, at Omdurman, 357;
      Gemmaisa dies of, 443.

    Solong, Suleiman, _K._ Darfur, 42.

    Stambuli, George, 174, 469.

    Stewart, Col., steamer wrecked, 322.

    Sudan, education in, 549;
      effects of proclamation abandoning, 297;
      gross immorality in, 560, 562;
      justice in, 544;
      liberty in, 108;
      manufactures, 559;
      market in, 71;
      one quarter of population left, 623;
      past and present state, 621;
      products, 38, 550;
      religion, 546;
      soldiers' rations in, 65;
      trade routes, 551.

    Tagos, displaced by Tungurs, 38, 41.

    Tarika, Sammania, etc., 123;
      Mahdi's new, 232, 373.

    Taxation, Slatin inspector, 4;
      of Baggara Arabs, 73;
      unjust, 133;
      Mohammedan poll tax and alms, 406;
      on gum, 552.

    Theft, punishment of, 36.

    Tomb of Mahdi, building of, 431;
      pilgrimage to, 549.

    Toweisha, 20.

    Tuti Island, 333;
      surrenders, 347;
      Sir C. Wilson at, 350.

    Typhus fever, 318;
      Mahdi dies of, 368, 487;
      Khalifa attacked by, 496.


    Uganda, Christians in, 508.

    Umbusa, Begu, mother of Mohammed el Fadl, 44.

    Usul, El Ata Wad Melek, at Om Shanga, 203.


    Vizetelly, 237.


    Wadai, Sultanate, 629.

    Waganda, envoys, 85.

    Wahrmund, Professor, 448.

    Water bottles, 110, 111;
      melons, 206, 209;
      Baobab trees, 277.

    Wilson, Rev. C. T. at Dara, 85.

    Wilson, Sir C., and steamers, 350.

    Wodehouse, _P._ Wadi Halfa, 451.

    Wolseley, Lord, at Dongola, 333;
      at Abu Klea, 338.


    Yakub, Khalifa's brother, 240;
      sympathetic villain, 292, 326, 364;
      his spies, 429, 457;
      plot against Zogal, 477, 501, 506;
      pays W. Arabs, 407.

    Yunes Wad Dekeim (Khalifa's relative), 256;
      subdues Gimeh, 386;
      Gallabat, 405;
      attacks Abyssinians, 415;
      his rapacity, 416;
      escapes plot and is recalled, 424;
      _E._ Dongola, 445;
      recalled, 476;
      sent back, 477.

    Yusef Pasha. _See_ Shellali.

    Yusef, _S._ aims at independence, 411;
      killed at Kebkebia, 428.


    Zeidan Agha, "all right," 197.

    Zeki Tummal (Taaisha), 312;
      succeeds Abu Anga, 439;
      defends Gallabat, 440;
      harries Shilluks, 471.

    Zeki, starved to death, 501, 574.

    Zigada, Dimitri, of El Fasher, 203, 276;
      breaking rules, 287, 291.

    Zogal Bey, Mahdi's cousin, at Dara, 22, 62;
      disloyal, 149, 169;
      left at Dara, 182;
      sent to El Obeid, 221;
      detected, 246;
      Said Mohammed Ibn Khaled, 261;
      enters Dara, 263;
      takes El Fasher, 270;
      lives in style, 274;
      arrested, 297;
      sent to Osman Digna, 473;
      _E._ Dongola, 476;
      recalled and imprisoned for life, 477;
      exiled, 500.

    Zubeir, Pasha, _J._ Ali Abu Amuri's assistant, 47;
      "Not the Mahdi," 127;
      _G._ Bahr el Ghazal, 49;
      takes Dara, 53;
      made Pasha and goes to Cairo, 56.

    Zubeir Suleiman, _J._ threatens revolt, 9;
      Bey _G._ Bahr el Ghazal, 12;
      dismissed, 14;
      attacks Ganda five times, 17;
      his wealth, 18;
      submits to Gessi, 26;
      shot by Helmi's Danagla, 28;
      his wife and son, 269.

    Zubeir Rabeh, 8;
      escape of, 19;
      goes West, 25;
      near Lake Tchad, 629.

    Zurbuchen, Dr., 7, 30, 59, 99;
      treats Gessi, 102.




FOOTNOTES:

[1] The dabarek is the circular pond usually made close to a well, into
which the water when drawn up is poured, and which is then used as the
drinking-trough for the flocks.

[2] The name given to the lords of the Bahr el Ghazal zaribas and their
men.

[3] A sheba is a piece of forked wood which is fixed on the neck by way
of punishment, and in this position is very painful.

[4] When religious Sheikhs go out to preach, they are generally preceded
by men bearing flags, on which texts from the Kuran are inscribed.

[5] Favourites of God. The expression occurs in the Kuran in the
following verse: "Are not the favourites of God those on whom no fear
shall come, nor shall they be put to grief?" (Surah x. 63).

[6] The Mahdi is supposed to come from Jebel Masa in North Africa; but
the astute Mohammed Ahmed did not hesitate to call Jebel Gedir, which
was to be his destination in Kordofan, by this name, and thus fulfil one
of the principal conditions of a "Mahdi."

[7] That is, the "Helpers,"--a term given by the Prophet Mohammed to the
early converts of El Medina.

[8] One of the most solemn forms of administering an oath is for the
person taking the oath to say, "I impose upon myself divorcement."

[9] More familiarly, "He who fights and runs away, lives to fight
another day."

[10] According to Mohammed Ibn Taher, "fai" is booty taken from a
country which submits to Islam without resistance, as distinguished from
"Ghanima," or plunder. The Mahdi adopted the "Ghanima" principle
entirely.

[11] Major Kitchener, now Sir Herbert Kitchener, the Sirdar of the
Egyptian Army.

[12] On my return to Cairo in 1895, I learnt that the full text of the
letters to which I have referred, had reached the British authorities,
and had been published in General Gordon's Journal.

[13] The steamer "Husseinyeh."

[14] One Egyptian piastre = 2½d.

[15] Unfortunately, the jibba was too big and long for me, consequently
I was unable to wear it at the time of my escape.

[16] By mere chance I had heard that the man's name was Taib Wad Haj
Ali, and that he had once been in Omdurman with Nejumi.

[17] The Khalifa, being a Baggari, or cattle-owning Arab, frequently
draws similes of this description.

[18] All true Moslems are buried facing Mecca.

[19] The term "Muslimani" is generally given to the descendants of
"unbelievers;" is an opprobrious epithet, and is applied by the Mahdists
to all so-called renegades.




Transcriber's Notes


Obvious errors of punctuation and diacritics repaired.

The following variants have not been changed: "spear men" and
"spearmen", "ombeÿa" and "ombeija".

The following words appear both with and without hyphens and have not
been changed: "birth[-]place", "day[-]time", "dock[-]yard",
"down[-]hearted", "re[-]capture", "re[-]capturing", "re[-]conquer",
"re[-]conquest", "re[-]named", "re[-]opened", "re[-]taken",
"re[-]united", "wide[-]spread(ing)".

Hyphen removed: "bare[-]footed" (p. 224), "life[-]long" (p. 630),
"mid[-]day" (pp. 198, 199), "re[-]gain" (p. 434).

Hyphen added: "Body[-]guard" (p. xvi), "camel[-]men" (p. 530),
"fire[-]arms" (pp. 38, 532), "good[-]will" (p. 105), "mid[-]stream" (p.
137), "semi[-]circle" (p. 61), "Small[-]pox" (p. 635), "water[-]melons"
(p. 550).

P. 82: "Omer" changed to "Omar" (Hillet Omar).

P. 133: "become" changed to "became" (a spirit of jealousy became
rampant).

P. 149: "send" changed to "sent" (At the same time I sent word).

P. 154: "Bilal Nagur" changed to "Belal Nagur".

"Madhi" changed to "Mahdi" (pp. 239, 241, 242, 292, 545, 615).

P. 219: "an" added (He kept an open table).

P. 245: "Maddibo" changed to "Madibbo".

P. 251: "sowed" changed to "sewed" ( I then sewed up the wound).

P. 279: "Imprisoment" changed to "Imprisonment" (The Rigours of my
Imprisonment).

P. 305: "the" added (ordered me in the future to remain).

P. 341: "heartly" changed to "heartily" (would have joined most
heartily).

P. 348: duplicate "age" removed (Even women of an advanced age).

P. 377: "collected" changed to "collecting" (he succeeded in
collecting).

P. 408: added "to" (rank next to that of the Khalifa).

P. 446 (caption of facing illustration): "Batakin" changed to "Batahin".

P. 451: "suppresed" changed to "suppressed" (the revolt of Abu Gemmaiza
having been suppressed).

P. 493: "Gareifawi" changed to "Gereifawi".

P. 522: "stills" changed to "still" (he still pretends to lead a life).

P. 588: "Aberrahman" changed to "Abderrahman".

P. 610: "he" changed to "the" (the sun disappeared from the horizon).

P. 614: "moutains" changed to "mountains" (first slopes of the Etbai
mountains).

P. 616 (caption of facing illustration): "Wady" changed to "Wadi".

P. 618: "Ascanea Nova" changed to "Ascania Nova".

P. 633 (index entry for "Ibrahim"): "Dafur" changed to "Darfur".

P. 635 (index entry for "Sennar"): "23" changed to "232".

P. 636 (index entry for Zeki Tummal, defends Gallabat): added page
number "440".





End of Project Gutenberg's Fire and Sword in the Sudan, by Rudolf C. Slatin